The Case of the Deadly Scalpel
Chapter 9
1
Ironside pulled the specially equipped van into Police Headquarters. The police officer on duty waved at him as he went by. Ironside lifted his left hand in recognition. It was time for a shift change. The parking garage was bustling with police officers coming on and leaving duty. Ironside slowed the van as some of them were crossing in front of him.
When he arrived at the back of the station, Ironside parked the van in the spot marked with his name. Mason opened the door and got out. He opened the back door, took Della's hand and helped her out of the vehicle. By the time she got out, the former chief of detectives was coming down in the lift. Perry and Della joined him and followed the detective to the elevator that would take them to the top floor of the building where Ironside's office was located. Ed and Mark pulled into the parking garage and parked next to the van.
They entered the elevator. Ironside checked to make sure Perry and Della were safely inside, and pressed the button for the office floor. Nothing was said between any of them as they rode upward. When they stepped out of the elevator, Mason stepped behind his brother's wheelchair and began pushing him toward his office. Using some extra muscle, Mason helped his brother up the ramp, reached past him and opened the office door. Eve stood up as they entered the office. She greeted Della and Perry, then joined Ironside, who settled his chair at the table. Mark and Ed followed them in. Once they set down the luggage, Mark headed into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. He would have to go to the grocery store and pick up some groceries. He normally figured on enough groceries to feed him and his boss along with a little extra for the days Ed and Eve would eat at the office. He didn't think there would be enough to feed Perry and Della for what would probably be at least a couple of weeks, if not longer. One thing for sure was there definitely wasn't enough coffee in the office for this bunch of coffee-alcoholics!
"Mark, fix us something to eat," Ironside shouted.
"Already in the works, Chief," Mark responded.
"And don't forget to go down and get Perry and Della's luggage."
"We already brought it in," Ed told him.
With everyone but Mark around the table, Ironside turned his attention to his younger brother. "How was the cruise?"
Della had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing at the look on Perry's face. She nudged his leg with her foot to remind him to keep his response in check.
"It was, well, short," Mason said. "We got off at the first port."
Ironside didn't take the bait. He simply said, "Good. Glad to hear I didn't interrupt a good time."
Della had to turn her head because she couldn't stop smiling. She could see Perry was straining to keep from saying anything. She wondered just how long he was going to be able to do so. She glanced over at the lawyer. From the look on his face, she thought better of saying anything. He was obviously not happy. Still, Della knew Perry would not confront his older brother.
"Let's get down to business," Mason said.
Ironside looked into the kitchen. "Mark, where is the coffee?"
Mason turned and called out to Mark as well. Only his demand was different. "Forget the coffee, Mark. Bring a bottle of Bob's best bourbon."
Ironside gave his brother a look Mason couldn't ignore. "Since you can't refrain from interrupting me everytime Della and I take a vacation, you can at least provide a decent bottle of bourbon."
"You just got through saying you got off at the first port because you were having a lousy time."
Mason shook his head. "I did not say we were having a lousy time. I simply said we got off at the first port. You may recall, I got a call demanding I come to San Francisco."
"You could have said no," Ironside said.
"Really? Oh, I am sure that would have gone over well," Mason replied.
Della was having trouble keeping from bursting into all out laughter. She could see Mark, Ed, and Eve were as well. She figured she better stop Perry and Robert before it escalated any further. "Alright, boys, that is enough. We are here, so let's get started on the case."
"I would rather work a case," Mason said sarcastically, "than be on a cruise with a beautiful woman."
Mark and Ed glanced at each other. With a nod, the two of them left the table. When they came back each one was carrying a case.
"What will it be?" Mark said. "A case of imported beer or …"
"A case of bourbon," Ed said.
The room was silent for a moment, then everybody including Mason and Ironside burst into laughter.
"Now that we have that out of the way, can we get down to business?" Eve asked.
"All right, what have we got?" Mason asked.
"It doesn't look good," Ed said. "Corbin Schulte was killed with a gold scalpel that belonged to Dr Stern. It was encased in a locked glass box. Only Stern had a key to it."
"His fingerprints were all over the box as well as the scalpel," Eve added.
"And Ben Stern cannot account for his time at the time of the murder," Mark added.
"A nurse overheard Stern and Schulte arguing," Ed said.
"Which is all circumstantial," Ironside pointed out. "The scalpel belongs to Ben. It is only natural that his fingerprints would be found on it as well as the case."
"I can agree with you there, Chief," Eve said, "but that doesn't explain how Dr Stern's fingerprints got on the Saint Christopher medal that Schulte was wearing."
"And that is the most damning piece of evidence against him," Ironside said.
"Bob, maybe this time you are just plain wrong. Maybe the doctor was trying to protect his reputation," Mason said.
"Are you saying that Ben killed Corbin Schulte?" Ironside shook his head. "I have known Ben Stern for more years than I can count. He is no more capable of murder than you or I am."
Once again, Della nudged Perry's leg with her foot. She knew exactly what he was thinking. To prevent another start of back and forth, she wasn't going to let Perry respond to that comment.
Mason got the message. "You know fully well that anybody is capable of murder under the right circumstances," he said.
"You don't know Ben Stern, but I do. There is no way in hell that he murdered Corbin Schulte," Ironside insisted.
Mason blew out of breath. "All right, I'll talk to him. However, if he can't convince me that he didn't do it, he will either plea bargain or find himself another attorney." When he saw his brother was about to object, Mason put up his hand. "Don't try to convince me otherwise, Bob. I don't help murderers get away with it. If he is innocent, I will defend him. But if he can't convince me he isn't the murderer of this man, then he's going to plea bargain. If he refuses, well, I've already told you what I would do."
"Then I think it is about time you go speak with him," Ironside snarled.
"I would have done that already if you had taken me directly to him like I suggested. I remind you, you were the one who brought me to your office."
The detective turned his chair around quickly. "Let's go."
"No, Bob. I want to talk to him alone. You stay here."
"What do you mean, I stay here?" Ironside complained.
"Just like I said. You stay here. If you want me to take this case, you'll do as I ask. I don't want a witness to the conversation. When I speak to a client, it is covered by attorney-client privilege. If you are there and witness the conversation, you are not covered by it. You can be called as a witness. The district attorney would make you repeat everything that is said. I can't have that. I have a client to protect . . . if I decide to take him on as a client. So, you stay here."
Della watched the two men. Normally, Perry would defer to his older brother, as he almost always lost an argument. This time, Della knew who would win this one, and it wasn't Robert Ironside.
The room remained silent for a minute. Ed, Eve, and Mark wondered if their boss was going to argue that everything Ben Stern was going to say was already known by the police. Chief Ironside rarely lost an argument with anyone.
Mason stared at his older brother, daring him to defy him. Instead, Ironside backed his chair to the table and turned around without saying a word. Having won that round, Mason turned his attention to his secretary. "Della, I would like you to come along and take notes of the conversation so I have them to refer to if need be" Della Street stood up and walked out of the office with the lawyer.
Mark wanted badly to say, 'You really told him.' Instead he kept it to himself. It wasn't often Robert Ironside backed off from a confrontation, but he did this time. Maybe he realized Perry Mason was right. He didn't need a witness to his conversation with Ben Stern. Watching his boss, Mark could tell he was barely containing himself.
2
Lieutenant Carl Reese had gotten nowhere with Dr. Ben Stern. Everytime he asked him a question, Stern simply said, "I want my attorney present."
"Look, Doctor, if you really are innocent, hiding behind an attorney makes you look bad. Why not talk to me? Maybe we can clear this up if you just talk to me," Reese said.
"I want my attorney present," Stern said.
Frustrated, Reese stood up. "Well, if that's the way you want it. Only guilty people lawyer up."
"Don't you think I know what you are trying to do, Lieutenant. You don't want to clear things up. What you really want to do is get me to confess to something I did not do. That's not going to happen. I'll let my attorney do my talking for me." Stern looked away from him.
Reese shook his head. Damn Ironside for telling him not to talk to the police! Ironside was the police for cripes sake! He was supposed to help gather the evidence that would arm the district attorney with the ammunition to obtain a conviction. Instead, he was going to meddle in Reese's case. Even going to Chief Prentiss didn't do any good. What was it she said, 'Robert Ironside doesn't meddle, he investigates.' The lieutenant had no idea how he was going to keep Ironside out of the case. The man was extremely powerful in the police department. He could take on any case he chose to, and no one could stop him, including Chief Prentiss obviously. She simply didn't want to tangle with Ironside.
The chief was too emotionally involved with this one as far as Reese could see. Ben Stern was a friend for many years. They occasionally played poker together. How was he supposed to compete with that? There would be no reasoning with the stubborn detective.
There was a knock on the door. It opened and the police officer who was guarding the door poked his head into the room. "Lieutenant, the perp's lawyer is here. He wants to see his client."
Reese sighed. He had a pretty good idea who that lawyer was. Actually, he already knew who he was. Who else would Robert Ironside bring in to defend Stern other than the famous attorney from Los Angeles. "Send him in."
"Yes, sir." The officer disappeared and moments later the door opened again. Perry Mason and Della Street entered the interrogation room.
Mason reached out his hand. "Lieutenant, nice to see you again."
Reese shook Mason's hand. "Same here," he said, although he didn't sound very convincing. He wasn't happy to see Mason at all. "Shall we get down to business?" Reese walked over and sat down. Looking back when Mason didn't join them, he said, "Mason?"
"My client isn't answering any questions, Lieutenant." Mason smiled. "He has the right to remain silent. Anything he says, you will use against him. I can't allow that. So, if you leave the room, I'll speak with him alone."
"Now, just a minute . . ." Reese said before Mason interrupted him.
"You are not denying him the right to speak with his attorney alone, are you?" Mason said, glaring at the lieutenant.
"No." Red faced and angry, Reese left the room. Perry Mason sat down on the opposite side of the table. Della took the chair next to him.
Looking down at the doctor's hands, he couldn't believe they would cuff a respected doctor to the ring in the middle of the table. What did they think he was going to do? There was nowhere for him to go with a guard standing right outside the door. Besides, the doctor had a reputation for his soft and gentle demeanor. It wasn't necessary to treat him this way. They could have at least allowed him the dignity of sitting behind the table uncuffed. They did it all the time for those not considered a threat to their lawyer.
"My name is Perry Mason, and this is my secretary, Della Street."
Stern smiled. "Yes, Mr Mason, I am well aware who you are. Your reputation precedes you."
"As you know Robert Ironside is my brother. He asked me to speak with you regarding Corbin Schulte."
"He told me he was going to call you," Stern said.
Mason looked him squarely in the eye. "Did you kill Corbin Schulte?"
"From what I have seen, most attorneys don't ask that question. They don't want to know."
"I am not most attorneys, Doctor," Mason said. "If you are guilty, I will get the best deal for you I can. However, if you are, I will not try to get you off of a murder charge. If you killed the man, you deserve to go to prison."
"I swear to you, Mr Mason, I didn't kill Corbin Schulte. If I wanted to kill him, there were ways I could have done it during his surgery that would be next to impossible to detect. It certainly would have been much easier than killing him the way whoever did it."
Mason stared at him for a moment, then went on. "Alright, I believe you. Now, tell me what happened."
Stern proceeded to tell Mason everything he told Robert Ironside when he showed up at the scene of the murder. He made sure he didn't leave anything out . . . except one thing — he didn't tell him anything about the blackmail. He couldn't. If he did, Mason might not take his case.
Mason listened attentively without interrupting. It was pretty much the same information his brother gave him on the way from the airport. "Doctor, do you have any explanation for how the murderer got into your office, how he got the scalpel out of a locked case?"
Stern looked down. It had been on his mind ever since he was arrested. "I honestly do not know. I do know my office door was locked. I always lock it when I leave for any reason. There are drugs in the office. I have to keep them secured. For that reason, I never leave the office unlocked when I leave it."
"Who has a key to the office beside you?" Mason asked. He glanced over at Della, who was busy taking notes of the conversation.
"As far as I know the doctor who runs the hospital has the only key."
"What about a cleaning lady?" Mason asked next.
"The office is usually cleaned early in the morning. I have always insisted on being here when it is done. So the cleaning lady does not need a key to the office."
"And the case the scalpel was kept in?" Mason inquired.
"Locked. The scalpel was made of pure gold. I couldn't take the chance of it being stolen. It was worth a lot of money. I had to protect it."
"And the keys to both?"
"If you mean my keys, the key to my office door was in my pocket. As far as the key to the case the scalpel was in, well, I kept that in my desk."
"So, whoever got into the office could have easily obtained the key to the case."
"Yes. There is no lock on my desk."
"So, we have to find out how the murderer got into your office. That is the key to how he got hold of the key to the container the scalpel was in."
"It would seem so," Stern agreed.
"Where were you when the murder took place?" Mason asked.
"I went for a walk outside the hospital. I needed to get some fresh air. I just performed surgery on a man that I knew wouldn't do him any good."
"Then why did you do it?" Mason said. "If it couldn't help him, why would you agree to go ahead with it?"
Stern smiled. "You would have to have known Corbin Schulte to know the answer to that question. He was a determined man. He insisted – no that is not the right word. He demanded I go ahead with the surgery. He was convinced it would be successful despite me telling him that he waited too long."
"Again, why did you go ahead with it?"
"I guess, I just didn't want to deal with him if I didn't do it," Stern replied.
"And was the surgery a failure?"
Stern shrugged his shoulders. "It is obviously too early to tell, but I have no doubt it didn't help him at all. I am certain that is what would have been the result if he had lived."
"One of the nurses said she overheard an argument between the two of you. What was it about?"
"About whether I should do the surgery. He insisted I do it. I tried to tell him he waited too long, but he wouldn't listen."
"Why was he blackmailing you?" Mason asked.
The expression on Stern's face changed. Mason noticed it immediately. So did Della. Both were certain Mason hit a nerve.
"Blackmail? Corbin wasn't blackmailing me."
Mason didn't buy it. "Now look here, Doctor, if I am to help you, you must tell me the truth and tell me everything. I can't be blindsided in court. No matter how bad it is, we'll deal with it. Now, why was he blackmailing you?"
"I told you he wasn't blackmailing me," he said with agitation.
Mason decided to let it go for now. He would pursue it, or rather have his brother or Paul Drake pursue it. He stood up. Nodding toward Della, he indicated the inquiry was over. She closed her tablet and joined him.
"Mr Mason, are you going to defend me?" Stern asked.
"Yes, I'll defend you, but I want you to think about what I asked you. No matter how bad something may sound to you, it is better that I know about it." Mason took Della by the elbow and left the interrogation room.
3
Paul Drake finished packing his suitcase. He received a call from Perry to come to San Francisco. This time it was a doctor friend of Ironside's. Paul actually admired the gruff detective. He was brilliant. There wasn't any doubt about that. Yet, he didn't look forward to working with him. Paul much preferred to work on his own. He and Perry had been doing it for years. Perry should try to talk him into staying out of the investigation. Unfortunately, he would never do it, and he would once again be taking orders from the San Francisco detective.
Paul closed his suitcase. Picking it up, he carried it out of his apartment. Drake opened the trunk of his car and placed it inside. Getting behind the wheel, he headed for his office. When he arrived at the Brent Building, he took the elevator to the floor where his and Mason's offices were located. After greeting his secretary, he went into his office and closed the door. Sitting down behind his desk, Drake booted up his computer. Since he helped Perry with several cases that involved the San Francisco detective, he bookmarked the newspaper site on the internet.
He wanted to find out as much as he could about the case he was about to investigate before he arrived in the Golden Gate city. He wasn't about to face Ironside with no knowledge of what happened. The detective would expect him to be up to date regardless that he was just being brought on the case. With everything he was reading, Ben Stern certainly didn't seem the type who would commit a murder. He was a respected and extremely successful surgeon. He helped a lot of people remain on their feet.
Then Drake was well aware anyone could kill if the circumstances were conducive. Ben Stern just didn't have the face of a murderer. Drake keyed in Corbin Schulte. The information on him was much more sparse. It seemed he had been able to stay below the radar. Drake picked up the phone receiver and then dialed a number at police headquarters. He waited until he received an answer. "Lieutenant Tragg's office, please. This is Paul Drake."
A minute later, Tragg came on the line. "Drake, you better not be telling me you and Mason have discovered another dead body."
Drake chuckled. He had to admit, he and Perry certainly did discover a lot of dead bodies. His clients were innocent, but they certainly got mixed up in murders it was later found they didn't commit. "No, we didn't discover any dead bodies, at least I haven't. And, if Perry did, it would be in San Francisco, so you are off the hook."
"San Francisco? What's Mason doing in San Francisco?" Tragg asked.
"What's the matter, Tragg, as a detective, you should be keeping up. A doctor by the name of Ben Stern has been charged with murder."
"I am well aware of that, Drake, and I do read the news. What has that to do with Mason?"
"Ben Stern is a close friend of Robert Ironside," Paul answered.
"Oh, well, that explains a lot. Mason is defending this doctor. Is that it?"
"That's about the size of it."
"So what do you want from me that you can't get from Ironside?" Tragg asked.
"Absolutely nothing actually," Drake said.
"Then what the hell is this phone call for?"
Paul almost laughed at Tragg's frustration. "I don't want to go to San Francisco not knowing anything about the murdered man. I was hoping you could help me with that."
"I see. You want to impress Ironside," Tragg said.
"Actually, no. Nothing impresses Ironside. I just want to go in there with an understanding of the murdered man. Ironside will have all the information on Stern."
"Alright Drake. I'll help you impress Ironside. Just a minute while I pull up what information we may have on the murdered man. What's his name?"
"Corbin Schulte."
There was silence on the other end of the phone. It lasted long enough that Paul was concerned the call had been disconnected. "Tragg, are you there?"
"Yes, I am here. Hold on, Drake. I want to check something."
The line went silent. Drake wondered what elicited Tragg's reaction at the mention of Corbin Schulte's name. He wondered if the lieutenant ran into Schulte sometime in the past. It would mean Schulte didn't always live in San Francisco. Drake lit up a cigarette and took a long puff from it. He really had to give them up. After all, smoking was hazardous to one's health. So they say. Giving them up would be the same as giving up the soggy hamburgers he was forced to eat while on a case for Perry. On second thought, he wasn't giving up either any time soon.
"Drake, are you there?" Tragg said.
"Yes, Lieutenant. What's up?"
"I thought that name rang a bell the minute you mentioned it. That's why I decided to check on it. That is one bad character. He has been to several different cities. Every police department suspected him of pimping out underage girls. Unfortunately, he always had somebody else doing his dirty work. Not one police department has been able to charge him. We know he has beaten up several girls who refused to service their johns. Unfortunately, we could never get them or their parents to press charges. None of them wanted to go through the embarrassment or put their daughter through anymore than she had been through. If Ben Stern murdered him, he did society a favor."
"Lieutenant, I wouldn't say that too loud if I were you," Drake laughed.
"You know I don't mean it. It is just that scum like him seem to get away with everything they do with no consequences. It is nice to know that he will not harm any more underage girls. So, Ironside doesn't think Stern did it?"
"No, he has known Ben Stern for years."
"And, of course he got Perry to come to San Francisco to defend him."
"You got it. Thanks for your help, Lieutenant. Any chance you can fax that material to me?"
"I figured you would want it. I already faxed it to you. Check your fax machine," Tragg told him.
"Thanks again." Drake hung up the phone. Pressing the intercom, he asked his secretary to bring him the document from the fax machine. A moment later, she walked in and handed it to him. The private eye looked it over, folded it up, and put it in his suit coat pocket. It was time he headed for the airport.
4
It cost her a lot of money, but it was worth it. Carly Williams would leave the Pacific Princess at the next port. She wasn't about to let a big story like this get away. Carly would fly back to Los Angeles. She would find out why Mason and Street left the cruise in such a hurry.
The captain would not allow her use of her cell phone or laptop computer. When she went to the internet room, she was refused entry. Apparently, the captain told his staff not to allow her near a computer. If she could find an attorney, she was going to sue the hell out of the Pacific Princess and its captain.
Carly couldn't believe how she was treated aboard the ship. She was a reporter. The captain had no business stopping her from pursuing a story. Perry Mason was definitely a story. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a flash drive.
"Those stupid people really think I wouldn't back up everything I had," she said aloud and laughed at their stupidity. Everything she collected on Mason and Street was on the flash drive. Carly had a feeling there was a bigger story yet. Otherwise, Mason and Street would not have left the ship in such a hurry. It costs a lot of money to take a cruise. Yet, they left at the first port. There had to be a reason.
If only she could get access to a computer, she might be able to find out why the two of them cut their vacation short. Mason must have a big case in the works. What else would get him to leave the ship?
Carly knew enough about him to know that he had a famous detective brother in San Francisco. She suspected that might be why he was called away. Something was going on in the Golden Gate City. Maybe, she should make her flight arrangements for San Francisco, rather than Los Angeles. If she was right, and she suspected she was, she would save time flying around California. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. That is what she would do.
Maybe there was a story there on Ironside as well. She knew that was his name. Robert T Ironside. What skeletons did he have in his closet? Carly would surely find out. Neither one of them were going to get away with whatever it was they were hiding, and she was certain they were hiding something.
Mason and Street's relationship would take a back burner. However, she wasn't about to let that story drift into oblivion. She had every intention of getting back at the shyster lawyer. That included going after his big famous brother.
All of her belongings were packed except what she would need overnight. The next port was only one day away. She would leave this God forsaken ship and get back to work. Carly didn't know how she was talked into taking the cruise. Her employer, the Los Angeles Times, and her editor only gave her fluff pieces to write. She had no intention of doing that forever. Carly was a good reporter, and she knew it. If there was a big story in San Francisco, she would be the only reporter from the Los Angeles Times covering the story. If she did it up right, they would no longer be able to ignore her talent as a reporter.
She would get the big scoop and bring down Mason and Ironside at the same time. She had no idea what they were up to, but she intended to find out. They wouldn't escape her scrutiny.
She looked out the window of her cabin. Of course, she could see nothing but blue water. Carly never understood why anybody would take a cruise. Nor did she understand why her editor would have the paper pay for her cruise if they didn't want her to do a story. It really didn't matter. With Mason gone, there wasn't any story aboard the ship. But there was in San Francisco.