The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 1

1

Perry Mason took their suitcases from the carousel at Los Angeles International Airport. He placed them on a cart. Pushing them toward the nearest exit, Mason stepped aside so Della could exit first and he followed with the bags. Once outside, he flagged down a taxi. After putting their luggage in the trunk of the vehicle, Perry opened the car door and allowed Della to slide in to the back seat ahead of him. As soon as they were settled, the driver pulled the vehicle away from the curb.

"Where to, Mr. Mason?" he asked the lawyer.

Perry gave him the address of his apartment building and settled back in the seat. He turned, looked at Della, and smiled. "Well, it's back to the office in the morning."

Taking Perry's hand, Della squeezed it slightly. "I'm beginning to think we spend more time in San Francisco than we do here."

"I'll tell you what, the next time Bob calls us to defend someone in San Francisco, you can tell him I'm not available," Perry said with a grin.

"He's your brother, why don't you tell him?" She said, amused with the lawyer.

"I can't tell him no, but you could."

"Let's face it, neither one of us could refuse him," she said with a chuckle. Looking out the window, Della wished they'd arrived on a Friday night instead of Sunday. At least they'd have the weekend before they had to be back in the office. Then again, Perry probably would've insisted they work part of the weekend to catch up. David Gideon would take care of what he could, but there was only so much he could do. Some things could only be handled by Perry.

As they drove through the streets of Los Angeles, Mason wondered what had been going on in the city while they were gone. He asked the driver, "What's been happening while I was out of town?"

"If you mean in court, Hamilton Burger won a case. You remember the man who shot and killed the teller at Wells Fargo bank because she tried to set off the alarm when he tried to rob her?"

"Didn't that just go to trial before we left?" Della asked.

"That's right, Miss Street. Burger got the conviction."

"Who was the defense attorney?" Mason asked.

"Jerry Stillwell. He should've hired you. The trial went fast and the defense was non-existent."

"It should've gone quickly since they had the man on the security system camera. He was identified by the tattoo on his neck," Perry said.

"Not to mention he took the mask off in his get-away vehicle in front of three witnesses who were walking down the street," Della added. "Fortunately, they stuck around and told the police."

"You two know better than anyone that crooks always slip up somewhere. It's just a matter of finding their mistake," the driver said.

The cab driver brought them up-to-date on other things that happened in the city while they were out of town. Before long, he was pulling the cab in front of Mason's apartment building. Perry glanced at the meter, pulled money out of his wallet, and included a generous tip. He handed it over the seat to the driver.

"Do I take Miss Street home from here?" He asked.

"No, we have some work to do. I'll drive her home when we're done," Mason told him. They got out of the cab and walked around to the back. The driver already had the trunk open and was pulling out their suitcases. "I'll help you carry these up to your apartment if you'd like. That's a lot of luggage for one person to carry."

The lawyer decided to take him up on his offer. Della followed as the two men carried the suitcases into the building and walked down the hall to the elevators. After riding up to Perry's floor, Mason unlocked his apartment, shut off the alarm, and preceded the cab driver and Della inside. Mason pulled out another five dollar bill and handed it to the cab driver. The cabbie thanked him and left the apartment.

"Just exactly what work do we have to do tonight, Counselor?" Della asked with a smile.

He turned and grinned. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to be working on a nice glass of wine."

Della chuckled. "Would you like some cheese to go with that?"

"No, just the wine. Will you join me?"

"You pour the wine and I'll unpack the suitcases," Della said.

As she turned away, Perry reached out, took her by the arm and turned her around to face him. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her into him. "The suitcases can wait until tomorrow. This is the first night we've been alone since we went to San Francisco. I don't want to spend the evening unpacking suitcases."

"What do you want to spend the evening doing?" Della asked already knowing the answer to her question.

Mason pulled her tighter to his body, leaned down, and kissed her. When they parted he told her, "I thought we'd call it a night and retire to the bedroom."

"It's only 7:00. It's much too early to sleep," she said with a slight smile.

"Who said anything about sleeping?" Mason said. Taking her hand, he led her to his bedroom.

2

Jack Brace sat at his desk in his locked study. Kneeling down, he reached under the desk, lifted the floor boards, and pulled out a large box hidden in the hole. Pushing the desk chair back, he lifted the box and set it on the desk. Jack reached into his pocket and removed his keys. After searching through them, he found the key he was looking for. He put it into the lock on the box and turned it. Lifting the lid, he stood there for a moment just staring at the stacks of money.

Brace closed his eyes and thought about his son. Tommy had applied to several colleges, but none of them were interested. Unfortunately, his son hadn't applied himself throughout high school and his grades were less than stellar. Most of Tommy's friends had applied and been accepted to various schools and were all busy planning their futures. They even knew what they wanted to study. Tommy couldn't make up his mind what he wanted to do for a living. Now, all his friends were all away at school and Tommy was left behind.

Jack tried to talk his son into attending the local college, but Tommy wanted no part of it. He wanted to go to UCLA like most of his friends. Unfortunately, his grades kept him from being accepted. Tommy was a handsome lad. He was five feet eleven inches tall, weighed 170 pounds, with blond hair and blue eyes. Tommy Brace had even been the star of the football team. But, he was the star of a losing high school team. In fact, the only highlight on the team was Tommy. As a running back, he racked up the yardage on the ground. Although he'd been an exceptional player for his team, he was only average compared with other running backs throughout the state of California. His talent just wasn't good enough to get a football scholarship to a small college let alone the big universities.

Tommy simply never took his school work seriously. He was praised by people in his community often, and he was the talk of the school. He failed to realize his grades were more important than his football talent. Due to the adulation of students and teachers alike, he'd been convinced the colleges would fight over him. The truth was there were plenty of guys with his level of talent; high school stars whose football careers ended at the end of their senior year in high school.

It was now too late for Tommy to go to the local college. The semester had already started. So, he got a job at a gas station, gassing up cars, taking money, and running the cashier for the pop, candy, and potato chips sold at the station. It upset Jack that the boy was wasting his time in the gas station. Yet, he felt it was necessary for him to understand the importance of an education. He'd only learn that by working for minimum wage in a job that required no special skills. Jack had plenty of money. He could put his son through school with no problem. The boy simply lacked focus. He needed to learn; Jack wouldn't interfere with that education. It could turn out to be an important lesson which would lead to understanding the importance of an education.

Brace pulled several hundred dollars out of the box, closed it, and returned it to the hole under the desk. He then put the boards back in place. Anyone looking under the desk would have no idea there was more than a million dollars in hundred dollar bills hidden there.

Jack was an advertising consultant. He made a decent living over the years, but it didn't explain the huge amount of money under his desk. Nor did it explain the several million dollars in an overseas account. An advertising consultant by day and . . . cat burglar by night. Only recently had he given up the lucrative occupation and worked only his daytime job.

Jack was one of the best in the business. That news had spread like wildfire to the right people. Soon he was being contacted by crooks all over the country, who hired him to break into art galleries, museums, and anywhere expensive jewelry or artifacts could be found. And, that didn't include all the jobs he had worked on his own. As a result of 25 years of stealing for a living, Jack was able to retire from the profession. He certainly didn't need the money any longer. He had enough money to live out the rest of his life doing nothing if that's what he wanted. However, it wasn't what he wanted. He actually enjoyed being an advertising consultant. Besides, quitting now guaranteed his freedom. No police department had ever even come close to collecting enough evidence to arrest him. He had no doubt there were some city departments who suspected him, but he prided himself on his planning. Every job he'd done went off without a hitch. All the more reason to quit while he was ahead.

Jack had even cut ties with his partner of many years. Steve Edwards tried in vain to talk Jack out of quitting but to no avail. Brace had no doubt Steve was still taking jobs. He didn't understand why he kept going. Despite the excellent planning of each job, there was always a chance something could go wrong. Jack had been lucky. No one showed up to surprise him when he was on the job. Even though they'd never been friends, he and Steve had worked well together. . How much money could one man need? Still, he had a feeling Steve spent a lot of money. He wouldn't doubt if he spent so much that he didn't have any left to live on. It was probably the reason he didn't retire.

None of that made any difference to him now. He was happy with the way things were. He had a wife who loved him and a son he loved. He just had to figure out a way to put the kid on the right track. He needed a college education. Jack didn't want him taking up stealing for a living. Even though he was probably the best in the business, he worried every day he'd get caught, end up in prison, and his family would have no income. Sure, he had several million dollars stashed away, but the authorities would be watching his family for any signs they were living off some of the ill-gotten funds. Jack simply didn't want that for his son.

Now that he was working a legitimate job, he regretted what he'd done over the years. It had been gnawing on his mind for some time now. So much so, Jack had decided to see an attorney about returning the money, in secret of course. His hope was that it would be returned to some of the people he stolen from over the years. He had an idea for staying out of jail, but he needed a lawyer for his spokesman as well as someone to protect him and his family.

He reached for the phone and dialed the number of a man considered the best attorney in the country. Fortunately for him, that man worked right here in Los Angeles. When he made the decision to seek the help of an attorney, only one man came to mind . . . Perry Mason. When you were in trouble, he was the man you went to.

"Perry Mason's office," Della Street answered.

"I would like to make an appointment to see Mister Mason," Jack told her.

"What's the nature of the business you'd like to see Mister Mason about?" Della asked him.

"It's a very sensitive subject which I will only discuss with Mister Mason. I assure you the appointment is for me. It's in regard to stolen objects and money. Please, I need Mister Mason's help."

Della Street checked the calendar. "Mister Mason has a 4:00 appointment available today if that'll work for you."

"That's fine. I'll be there at 4:00."

"What's your name, sir?"

"Jack Brace," he answered.

"Thank you. We'll see you at 4:00 p.m.

3

Della Street hung up the phone. Something about the call bothered her. She almost told the man Perry Mason's calendar was full. It was the sound of desperation in his voice that caught her attention. When he mentioned it was regarding stolen articles and money, she thought about not giving him the appointment. Perry preferred criminal cases, as in murder, but he handled a variety of other cases. It was definitely the murder cases where Perry made his money. Those who were innocent would pay top dollar to have him as a defense attorney. His reputation was the reason. He was the attorney who never lost. Actually, the reason for that was he had an uncanny ability to access whether someone was guilty or innocent. Thus, he took on a lot of innocent people mixed up in murders.

This was not a murder case. Yet, Della felt compelled to make the appointment and let Perry decide if he wanted to take the case. It was entirely up to him as always. She was proud of the fact that he rarely turned down a case she sent into his office. Perry trusted her judgement. It was an unspoken trust they shared with each other. She listened to him and he listened to her. It was what made them such a great team in and out of the office.

She stood up and headed into see him. Knocking on the door to his office, Della heard him call out. "Come in."

Della Street entered the office of the most successful attorney in Los Angeles, (anywhere for that matter). When he looked up, he expected to see Gertie rather than Della. Gertie always knocked on his office door. Della, on the other hand, usually only knocked when he had someone in the office.

"Della, how many times have I told you? You don't have to knock unless I have someone in here. Just come right in."

"I don't like to interrupt your train of thought."

He smiled. "That happens whether you knock or just come in."

She smiled back at him. Changing the subject, she told him, "I set an appointment up for you for 4:00."

Mason frown. "Why so late in the afternoon? I thought we'd get out of here a little early, go have a nice dinner, and then find somewhere to go dancing. I haven't held you in my arms on the dance floor for a while now."

"Because we still haven't sat down together and caught up on the mail. We need time to get it done before another appointment. If you would've worked on it when I asked you to, I wouldn't have had to set the appointment so late in the afternoon."

Mason's disdain for the task showed in his expression. It reminded Della of a little boy who didn't want to do what his parents told him to. "I hate doing the mail," Mason grimaced.

"Really? I never would've guessed," she said with a slight smile.

"I suppose you aren't going to leave me alone about it until it's done, so I'll finish this brief tomorrow. There is no hurry on it anyway. So let's get it over with."

"Aren't you interested in knowing who made the appointment?" She asked.

Mason was far more interested in the potential client than he was the mail and he knew Della knew it, too. "Okay, who is the client and what's his or her problem?"

"The man's name is Jack Brace."

"Brace? Is that the man who owns the advertising consulting agency?" Mason wondered aloud.

"I don't know, he didn't mention it."

"Well, what's his problem?"

"He said it was in regard to stolen articles and money."

Mason looked at Della and then inquired, "What else did he say?"

Della shrugged her shoulders. "He didn't say much. He only wants to talk to you."

"Then why did you give him an appointment? It really doesn't sound like something I'm interested in handling."

"You're never very interested unless it involves a murder," Della said.

"Della, I handle a lot of work that has nothing to do with murder." Perry stood up and came around the desk. Sitting on the edge of it, he folded his arms across his chest.

"I know that. But, you're always more interested in murder cases."

He smiled. "True. Well, we'll just wait and see what this is all about. I trust your instincts. I'll see him."

She smiled demurely. "Of course you will."

Della left the lawyer's office. Moments later she returned with the mail. She walked around Mason's desk and opened up the left-hand drawer of his desk. In that drawer, Dell kept pencils, pens, and pads for taking dictation for the lawyer. Even though it was Perry's desk, he respected that one drawer as Della's.

Once she had what she wanted out of the drawer, she walked over to the table Mason kept in his office and pulled a chair over next to him. "Okay, Mister Mason, we're ready to begin."

Before they could get started, the phone on Mason's desk buzzed. Della walked over to the desk and picked up the phone knowing only one other person had the ability to call into the private office. "Yes, Gertie, what is it?"

"Lieutenant Tragg is here to see Mister Mason. He was wondering if he could fit him in right away." Gertie said.

Della relayed the message to Mason and he smiled. Tragg would usually just force his way into the lawyer's private office, stating the people of Los Angeles didn't pay him to sit around lawyer's offices. Perry wondered why he was willing to be announced this time. He wondered if he had finally gotten through to the detective during the Lawrence Bradley trail. Tragg and Burger had burst into his office demanding to know where Perry's client was. At the time, Mason had no idea where he was despite the twosome insisting he did. He chuckled to himself just thinking about. He insisted they leave his office and allow Gertie to announce them or he and Della were going to walk out. The attorney knew they could do nothing about even though they had be threatening to have him arrested for harboring a fugitive. They eventually had to give in since they really had no leverage over him.

That might be the reason Tragg was wiling to wait in the outer office be announced. No, Mason decided. Whatever Tragg wanted couldn't be imperative or he would've pushed his way past Gertie. Arthur Tragg was not one to change his stripes.

There was knock on the door. Perry looked at Della and smiled. Will you let our lieutenant into the office, please?"

She headed for the office door as she said over her shoulder, "I'm surprised he didn't just barge right in. You don't suppose he's changed, do you?" Della stopped as she put her hand on the doorknob and turned around. She and Perry shook their heads and said at the same time, "No!"

Della opened the door and Gertie let Arthur Tragg into the office. She closed the door and immediately went back to her desk.

"Hello, Della," Tragg said. "You look especially beautiful today."

"Thank you, Arthur. Come in and have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"As long as you made it and not Mason," he said as he walked over to the lawyer's desk."

Mason was already standing on his feet. He smiled and gestured for Tragg to take a seat, but not before offering his hand. Lieutenant Tragg shook Mason's hand and sat down. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant? Need some legal advice?"

The veteran homicide detective smiled. "Actually, Perry, it's what I can do for you."

"Oh, what exactly is that?"

"You're seeing a client at 4:00 p.m. this afternoon." Tragg stopped momentarily to gauge Mason's reaction. The stone-faced lawyer didn't disappoint. His expression gave away nothing. "Oh, come on, Perry. I know he made an appointment with you. The man's name is Jack Brace."

Della raised an eyebrow at the mention of the name, making sure Tragg didn't see it. She wondered how Tragg knew and just exactly why he was in Perry's office regarding the potential client.

"You do know who the man is, don't you?" Tragg asked.

Mason said nothing. His law business was not up for discussion, especially with Los Angeles' premier homicide detective. Since it wasn't a homicide case, he was curious why Tragg was involving himself in it. Della told him it had to do with stolen money and articles . . . not dead bodies.

"Well, do you?" Tragg asked.

"The only thing I know is the man you just mentioned is an advertising consultant," Perry said cautiously.

"You haven't changed a bit, Perry. Still a treasure trove of information," the lieutenant said dryly.

Mason smiled. "Why don't you tell me why you're here and what it is you're so generously trying to help me with?"

Tragg sighed. "I was hoping to have a forthright conversation with you, but I should've known better. Okay, here it is in a nutshell. The man you're about to see has been masquerading around for years as an advertising consultant. I came here to tell you it isn't his only business. In fact, the advertising consulting business is nothing but a means to hide how he really makes his money."

Mason still said nothing. He was aware his silence would only frustrate the detective, and as a result, he would reveal more than he intended.

"Oh, for cripes sake, Mason. I didn't come here for a one-sided conversation!"

"Then what did you come here for?" Mason asked.

"To head you off from making a big mistake."

The lawyer raised an eyebrow. "What mistake am I about to make, Tragg?"

"Jack Brace is a cat burglar. We haven't been able to prove it yet. But, like all other crooks, he's going to make a mistake, and then we'll have him. I'm just trying to warn you off from getting involved with him."

"Excuse me, Arthur, but what leads you to believe this man, whoever he is, happens to be a cat burglar?" Della asked.

Mason had to turn away to hide the smile. She was fishing for information without admitting they had any knowledge of who the man was.

"Talk, Della, there's a lot of talk among his kind. He's considered the best in the business."

"That's not much to go on, Lieutenant," Perry said.

"In that circle, it's more than enough. The man has a partner by the name of Steve Edwards. The two of them have made mistakes. We're keeping track of those mistakes. When we have enough evidence, we'll arrest both of them."

"I still don't see why you're here telling me this," Mason said.

Tragg stood up. "Okay, Mason. Have it your way. Don't say I didn't warn you." He turned and headed for the door.

Perry Mason stood up behind the desk. "Lieutenant, for agreement's sake, let's say if I were to see this . . . what did you say his name was?"

Tragg smiled. "Jack Brace, as if you didn't know."

"Okay, let's say I knew this man. What's the purpose in warning me? Warning me about what?" Perry asked.

"Look, Perry. I've felt an obligation to you ever since you defended me on the murder of Angelo Devino."

"You don't owe me anything. You paid me to defend you and I did that to the best of my ability."

"Actually, I do owe you. I'm still paying off that bill."

"You don't have to. The police department paid me a handsome sum."

Arthur Tragg shook his head. "But, not enough to cover what you charged."

"I told you to forget it," Mason reminded him.

"I pay my debts, Perry. I know what you get for defending a client. Look, all I'm saying is you need to think twice about defending this guy. He's a crook, he's guilty, and he's going to jail someday . . . I hope. I just don't want to see you get caught up in what he's involved in."

"Now just how could I get caught up in it?" Mason asked.

"Just remember, I warned you." Tragg said nothing more. He turned and left the office.