Author's Note

I just spent the last couple of months reading all 86 of Erle Stanley Gardner's Perry Mason books. When my wife asked me what I was reading my tongue stumbled and I said Mary Payson. At that moment my Muse started doing somersaults and this is what came out. I'd apologize to Mr Gardner but he died long ago.

If you aren't familiar with Perry Mason, most libraries will have the books in printed or electronic form. They're well worth the time to read if you like character-driven mysteries. If you aren't familiar with Perry, you may find some of the references a bit obscure.

Chapter 1 - The Crime

2:00 AM in the big city. A cab makes it's way along an almost deserted boulevard and turns left onto a side street. The cabbie doesn't get far before he slams on the bakes.

"Jeez! Sorry lady, looks like the cops are going to town up ahead. Staties too, if all those black SUVs are any sign.

The woman in the back of the cab had been off in la-la-land after a night of partying. It had been a good night - a great show then dancing and sipping Champaign. Not as much Champaign as she would have preferred, but a girl had to be careful out by herself. No conversation, the DJ made sure of that after the show. Plenty of dancing - she smiled as she remembered both male and female partners. Her smile widened as she remembered Robert's boner poking her as they waltzed. What would her mother think if she knew?

Best she never found out.

The flashing lights up ahead soon popped the bubble of fond memories.

"Oh joy! That's my building they're in front of."

"I'd better let you out here. Never can tell what those assholes are going to do when they make these stupid midnight busts."

"You're a little off. It's 2:06 in the bloody morning."

"Those cowboys just love rousting people out of bed. Makes them think they're badder badasses than the bad guys."

"I just want to hit the rack. I hope whoever they're busting gets busted fast so I can get to sleep."

"I don't know… Those guys don't look any too happy. If they were ready to do a perp walk they'd all be looking macho and tough. They just look pissed."

"I guess you're right. Keep the change," the woman said as she got out of the cab.

"Good luck, lady!" the cabbie called as he did a u-turn.

 

The woman, now wide awake and very nervous, walked to her apartment building. It was fourteen stories of stately older building, erected before architects extruded modern glass-and-steel phalluses onto the landscape of just about every city in the land. Molded concrete, balconies, wrought iron railings and actual casement windows that you could open to let in the air. Maybe not fresh air, but air nonetheless.

Nervously the woman approached the entrance.

"I live here," she told the cop by the door.

"OK, lady. You obviously aren't the guy we're looking for."

"So who are you looking for?"

"Damned if I know. Ask the bigwigs, they don't confide in us mere mortals."

"Thanks anyway."

She pushed the button for the eighth floor and waited for the car to arrive. With a sigh she leaned against the wall as the door slid shut, hoping she didn't encounter any other problems. Her hopes were in vain, the door opened to reveal several men who looked like badly attired football coaches wearing warm-up jackets with POLICE in large letters across the back.

Having recently watched Men In Black she was almost nostalgic for FBI agents in ill-fitting suits with narrow ties. She stood there frozen, not even in her worst nightmares - and she had some real doozies - could she have imagined something like this.

She had just started to think again when a guy that looked like he wrestled bulls for amusement came stomping out of her door - her door! - screaming "Where the hell did that goddam guy go? You fucking said he hadn't left the place after he went in at five o'clock. Were you assholes sleeping on the job?"

"Look Martin, he came in at 5:09 on the dot. Go ahead and check the lobby camera if you don't believe me. He did not leave either by the front or the back door."

"Then just where the fuck did he go? You gonna tell me he turned into Spiderman and shot a goddam web out of his wrist and climbed out of the balcony?"

"He's probably in his girlfriend's apartment fast asleep after screwing her senseless. How the hell should I know where he went? He did NOT leave this building."

"Well, he sure as shit isn't in that apartment. We got his goddam computers, though. We get the electronics whizzes to open 'em up and we have his stash of kiddie-porn and his ass is grass. We spent months tracking that bastard's downloads and know for damnsure that it was going to his network. Load all that shit up and get it to the lab as fast as you can."

"OK, Martin. On it!"

The guardians of morality were too busy to notice the woman who quietly got back into the elevator and left the building.

Chapter 2 - The Lawyer

"Aaaarrrrgggg!!!!"

The tortured cry penetrated the walls of Mary Payson's private office, bringing her Confidential Secretary on the run.

"What's wrong, Chief?" queried Delbert Lane."

"Get me the Paula Duck Detective Agency on the line, Delbert. Make it quick!"

"Yes, Chief, right away!"

Delbert's nimble hands flew over the phone console that had replaced the old dial phones in the office of the most famous and flamboyant lawyer in California. Mary gave a small sigh for the olden days, but her appreciation for modern cell phones certainly made shadowing a suspect a whole lot easier than finding a phone booth. For that matter, these days finding a phone booth just might require the services of a Detective Agency,

"She's on the line, Chief."

"Thanks, Delbert. Stay on the line, will you? … Paula, I need information and I need it fast!"

"Mary, has there ever been a time you didn't need whatever my agency can supply fast? At least it isn't three o'clock in the morning like it usually is when you call on the private line."

"My, but we're crabby today."

"You want happy it’ll cost you extra."

"If you're going to be like that, get your pretty ass down to my office first."

Jawohl, mein Kapitan!"

Moments later Paula Duck entered Payson's private office. As is true of members of the biological order Anseriformes, Paula was the less flamboyant side of the species - something of great value to a private detective. Muted colors, conservative and nondescript dress and a hairdo that would have gone unnoticed in any crowd.

"You called?"

"Dammit! I can't get used to you just barging in here without your code knock."

"Mary, since you put the keypad on the door I haven't needed to knock."

"Never mind that! I want to know what Lilliputian Lamebrain cursed this world with E-mail? It was bad enough when Delbert placed piles pestilential papers on my desk and demanded I dictate a response, but now I actually get bombarded directly with these maniacal missives and have to take care of them myself. Dammit, I want to sink my teeth into a nice, juicy murder or some weird oddball who has an interesting case for me, not write letters!"

"Poor baby!" replied Paula Duck. "In answer to your initial question, there's some debate as to who actually invented e-mail. My tech nerds were talking about this just the other day. Their names are Ray Tomlinson and V.A. Shiva Ayyadurai. They both claim to have invented e-mail and they each have some evidence on their side."

"Then let's sue the skirts of both of them!"

"Touchy, touchy! I doubt either of those guys wear skirts."

"If they don't then let's make them wear them! Petticoat punishment, they used to call it. They deserve everything we can do to them!"

"What if they're like you? Wouldn't be much of a punishment."

"Damn. Never thought of that."

"You would have if you were before a jury. Unfortunately, you would probably be the defendant and not the defendant's counsel."

"Chief, I hate to interrupt a good rant but…" interrupted Delbert. "there's a rather disheveled lady wanting to see you in the outer office."

"At least I won't have to plow through any more e-mails. Thank heavens for small favors."

"I've penciled in the rest of the afternoon for correspondence, Chief."

"You're fired. No wait - bring in the client and then you're fired."

"I'll add another two weeks severance pay to my check. I think I've about six weeks ahead right now…"

"Begone, Delbert!"

"Goodbye, Mary. Don't plotz in your panties," Paula Duck said as she left.

Chapter 3 - The Client

"Ms Payson, Ms Vikki Vasser," Delbert announced.

"Come in, Ms Vasser, have a seat. What can I do for you?"

"I think I'm about to be arrested for kiddie-porn."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because when I came home last night the place was crawling with guys in funky windbreakers with POLICE on them and they were all in my apartment."

"And they didn't arrest you then and there?"

"Well, they were looking for Victor Morehead, they just ignored me."

"Wait a minute…"

"Yeah, I'm a crossdresser. Came in pretty handy last night."

"Delbert!" Mary called into the intercom, "Get Paula on the line!"

"You got it, Chief… Here she is."

"Paula, forget that last job, I got something more important."

"Make up your mind, Mary. What is it this time."

"Paula, I want you to track down the author of this piece of schlock and tell him that I will not tolerate another story where every damn character turns out to be a tranny."

"Sorry, Mary - no can do."

What!?"

"Look Mary, I can only do what the old fart lets me do when he's pounding on his keyboard. If he wants to use that stupid ploy one more time I can't do anything about it."

"Rats. I just know that Lieutenant Dragg is going to bust into this office any second now and arrest my client."

The door rattled on cue, but didn't open.

"Gotta love the cameras and electronic locks. Poor Lieutenant Dragg can't force his way in any more. The poor man looks rather forlorn standing outside the door. Miss Vasser, I would let you out the side door but I see Sgt Howcome waiting there for you. The sergeant is a dear man, but rather easily confused and tends to be somewhat abrupt. As Cheryl Wheeler has sung, the Sergeant is Frequently Wrong But Never In Doubt."

"Wait a minute," queried Delbert, "is Cheryl Wheeler a crossdresser, too?"

"Nope, just your garden-variety lesbian, but that's not part of the story. I just want to plug her music.

"You might notice the Sergeant is the only original character in this story where the author didn't muck with his gender. Just couldn't get the bugger to consider changing his mind, let alone his gender. I'm sure that the Lieutenant, who is one of the best drag queens in the city when he's off-duty, would be infinitely preferable to escort you to the police station."

"But you haven't even asked me if I'm guilty!"

"Completely unnecessary. In my forty years as a lawyer I have never represented a guilty client. Since you're my client you can't be guilty. QED."

"I'm glad you believe me."

"Of course. Now, if you would step into the corner of the office, I fear the fearless upholders of the law are getting impatient. I shall press the two door buttons simultaneously and we shall let them enter."

With the press of a button the doors flew open; the Sergeant and Lieutenant entered in a greater hurry than they had anticipated. Meeting halfway between the doors they grasped each other and began to waltz. Sgt Howcome, realizing he was holding another man, released the Lieutenant and began to sputter. Delbert, who had followed the Lieutenant in, tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Mary greeted them. "One day I hope you will deign to follow the dictates of civilized behavior and allow my secretary to introduce you without creating a scene."

"Can the crap, Mary. I'm here to take Victor Morehead in for questioning."

"Delbert, have you seen someone called Victor Morehead?"

"Sorry, Chief. No Victor around here."

"Mary! Mary! Mary!" the Lieutenant admonished.

"No, it’s 'Stella! Stella! Stella!' and you ain't no Brando. Why would you think I knew where this Victor character was?"

"Because every time weird shit goes down in this town you end up defending the weird shitter."

"Please, Lieutenant! There are ladies present."

"Mary! This is 2022, not 1939. We tough cops don't worry about our language any more. I do have to say you're pretty well preserved for a broad that's been around since 1939. Doesn't look like you've aged a day."

"Delbert, when Paula finds out who's writing this schlock be sure to send him a thank-you card."

"Got it, Chief."

"I don't know why my Captain keeps sending me out to arrest anyone you're defending. We've arrested the wrong person every time since you started practicing law."

"Nice of you to notice, Lieutenant."

"Like hell they ain't guilty!" shouted Sgt Howcome. "She just plays tricks and gets them off on a technicality."

"A technicality known as being innocent, Sergeant."

"Screw you!"

"Ah Sergeant, I don't think I'd be interested."

It took a few seconds for Sgt Howcome to realize he had just proposed sex with a transgendered woman. The Sergeant turned purple and began to sputter.

"Come along, Sergeant," ordered Lieutenant Drag. "We have criminals to catch and there aren't any here."

"Just a moment, Lieutenant. You performing on Saturday?"

"Sure thing, Mary. See you then Mary, Vikki, Delbert."

"Good, see you there," replied Mary. "Want to go on a date, Sergeant?" She asked.

Sgt Howcome, who had almost regained his normal ruddy complexion, again turned purple and stomped out.

"I guess that means no," Mary remarked. Too bad for the Sergeant, Peaches LaCreme is one of the best drag artists in town when she's not being a cop."

"That's why he seemed so familiar. I love her act!"

When the stalwart minions of the law had exited, Mary turned to Vikki and asked "So just what is the problem?"

Chapter 4 - The Problem

Vikki related the events of the previous night and continued "So I spent the night snorting coffee and nibbling doughnuts until your office opened. I hope you can help me."

"Of course. How secure is your home network?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. My twelve-year-old nephew set it up for me, I don't know crap about such things. I'm a computer user, not a tech nerd. I work as a Quality Assurance Analyst for industry and I've been working from home a lot since the epidemic. I just log on to their server and do my work. The only other stuff I do on my computer is Facebook and such."

"No computer games?"

"Plenty, but not on my PC. I collect classic game systems and play them. Those police idiots couldn't tell an X-box from an X-ray. They sure as hell won't find any porn on any of those machines since they're all dedicated game boxes."

"So where is your computer?"

"In the trunk of my car. I didn't have time to bring it in before I went out dancing last night. I took a cab to the club so I wouldn't have to worry about driving home if I had too many."

"A wise woman. Let me see your cell phone."

Taking a paperclip from her drawer, Mary popped out the SIM card and handed the phone back.

"Now they can't find you by tracing your phone. Buy a burner if you want to talk to anyone. Since the good Lieutenant only wanted you for questioning and didn't have a warrant, there is no question of you evading the law. Now, do you have a place to stay?"

"No. I haven't gotten that far."

"Find an ATM and get as much cash as you can before they think to freeze your accounts. Once you've done that, don't use your credit cards, they can be traced, Right now, give me a dollar as a retainer and we'll worry about payment once I get you acquitted. You can bet the cops will splash your name all over the papers so everyone knows they are defending the homeland from corruption and depravity."

"I know just how they work but I never thought it would get down to me."

"Nobody ever does. Amazing how some people think jackboots are a fashion accessory."

"With five inch spike heels?"

"Why bother? You can't see a pair of fabulous legs if your boot comes up to your knees."

"Good thing my knees are so sexy."

"Delbert, call Paula and have her tech nerds go out to Vikki's apartment and snoop around. Vikki, let Paula know your passwords and such and where to find your computer.

"OK Vikki. Now get lost while Paula beats the police to the evidence so we can cut right to the dramatic courtroom scene.

Chapter 5 - The Dramatic Courtroom Scene

"All rise for the Honorable Hung Ju Ree!" intoned the bailiff. A man of obvious Asian descent entered, his judicial robes flowing as he walked to the bench.

"Case of The State of California versus Victor Morehead. Is the prosecution ready?"

"We are," answered District Attorney Helene Bungler. The case had attracted enough publicity that the DA herself was leading the prosecution.

"Is the defense ready?"

"We are, your honor," answered Mary Payson.

"Call your first witness, Madam Prosecutor."

"I call…"

Before the DA could continue there was a disturbance among the spectators. A large, hairy man, concealing a massive pot belly under a tie-dyed T-shirt, arose and cried "I confess! I did it! I killed him!"

The judge banged his gavel. He really liked banging his gavel.

"What nonsense is this? This is a pornography case, no one's been killed."

"Your Honor," answered the hairy man, "I'm the author of this stupid story. I had a really great character in my mind for it but I couldn't make him fit the story line so I had to kill him."

"But nobody's been killed!"

"Since I wrote him out of the story no one but me knows I did it. I still feel guilty since he was such a great character."

"But why are you in this scene?"

"I figure if Alfred Hitchcock can do a cameo in his movies then I should be able to do one in my story."

"This is for the Birds. "Bailiff! Throw this man out the Rear Window."

The large, hairy man was ejected muttering apologies and whining about how fickle his Muse was.

"I call Winston Gyles," resumed the DA.

The witness was sworn in.

"Your occupation?" queried the DA.

"Police lab technician."

"Please state your qualifications."

"I'm a computer genius currently underemployed and underpaid by the police department."

"You should see my paycheck, Mr Gyles. At least you aren't a woman so you get a full salary. Did you examine several computers taken from the apartment of Victor Morehead?"

"No, ma'am."

"What?"

"I was given a pile of classic video game boxes that the police thought were computers. They were single-function devices and not computers. It was fun to play Pong again after all these years, though."

"Your witness," spoke the DA.

"Did he have Donkey Kong?"

"Sure did."

"I loved Donkey Konga with the bongos!" enthused Mary.

"That was a pretty cool game."

"Did you find any porn?"

"No way. Those machines can't store anything on them. They're just game machines."

"No further questions."

Helene Bungler was looking thoroughly upset. As usual when going against Mary Payson, Helene was absolutely sure she had a bulletproof case that would get her nemesis disbarred.

"I call Edwin Reeder," resumed the DA.

The witness was sworn in.

"Your occupation?" queried the DA.

"Police technician."

"Please state your qualifications."

"I'm a networking genius currently underemployed and underpaid by the police department."

"Aren't we all? Did you have occasion to examine the traffic on Victor Morehead's home network?"

"I did. The thing had absolutely no protection. It looked like a twelve year old kid set it up."

"And what did you find?"

"A whole shit ton of crap being downloaded. Oops, sorry - I guess I'm not supposed to say stuff like that on the stand."

"Did you have occasion to examine the networked electronics in Victor Morehead's apartment?"

"I did."

"And what did you find?"

"Diddly squat."

"What?"

"There was nothing connected to the network capable of downloading anything."

Helene Bungler was trying to control her anger, but was slowly turning purple. Not a good idea with her low-cut blouse.

"Your witness," grumped the DA.

"No porn, eh?"

"Nope. He did have a couple of pinup calendars that weren't too bad."

"Did you make a record of when these downloads occurred?"

"I did."

"I would like to see that record."

"I have them on a thumb drive. Here."

"Thank you, Mr Reeder. No further questions. I would like these records to be entered as Defense Exhibit A and would request a short recess to examine these records?"

"Court will recess for fifteen minutes."

Chapter 6 - The Surprise Witness

Mary Payson plugged the drive into her computer and scanned the document. She took out her cell phone and called Paula Duck. Seconds later, Duck entered the courtroom and handed Payson the answer to her question, neatly sorted and typed. (This is a short story, no time to wait for the information that reality would require.)

Judge Hung returned to the bench and banged his gavel, then he banged it a couple more times because it sounded so official.

"Are you ready to proceed, Madam Prosecutor?"

"The prosecution rests it's case."

"Very well, Your turn, Ms Payson."

"I call Lieutenant Arthur Dragg."

"Objection, your honor!" shouted Helene Bungler. "Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial!"

"But Ms Payson hasn't even asked a question yet."

"Who cares? The prosecutor has to say that in every Mary Payson story for series continuity."

"You may have a point there, Madam Prosecutor. Ms Payson?"

"While I often find the Lieutenant objectionable, I do need his testimony to make a fool out of Ms Bungler."

"In that case, objection overruled. Proceed, Ms Payson."

"Lieutenant, when you are off duty, do you have any other employment?"

"I do."

"And what is that employment?"

"I am an entertainer."

"And what do you do as an entertainer?"

"Entertain."

"Could you be more specific?"

"I could."

"Would you be more specific.

"I perform as Peaches LaCreme."

"And Peaches LaCreme is…"

"The most popular Drag Queen in the city, if I may say so."

"You certainly may, I try never to miss your act."

"You certainly are in the audience quite frequently."

"In saying that, it infers that you are able to see the audience well enough to identify some of them, is that correct?"

"It is correct."

"Is there anyone in this courtroom you could identify as a regular in the audience for your shows?"

"There is."

"Lieutenant, this is a short story. Can you quit with the brief answers and just cut to the chase?"

"If you insist. There was you, Delbert and Ms Vasser."

"Thank you. Was Ms in the audience the day that the police raided Victor Morehead's apartment?"

"She was."

"Your witness, Madam Prosecutor."

"No questions."

"I call Ms Vikki Vasser."

To everyone's surprise, the defendant, Victor Morehead, took the stand. The judge really got off by banging his gavel furiously.

"What is the meaning of this?" he queried.

"If I may proceed," Answered Mary Payson, "this is the point in the story where I pull a rabbit out of my hat and reveal the truth."

"Objection!" shouted Helene Bungler. "She's going to make me look like a fool again and I'm sick of it!"

"Some people never learn," commented the judge. "If you can find that author fellow maybe you can get him to start a spin-off series with you as the protagonist. Then you could win all your cases. Objection overruled."

"Crap!"

"Mr Morehead, are you a crossdresser?"

"Of course I am. What would be the point of this story if I wasn't?"

"And your femme name?"

"Vikki Vasser, of course."

"And where were you on the night your apartment was raided?"

"Watching Peaches LaCreme's show. I really like your version of Moon River, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, nice ass!" came a comment from the audience. The judge got to bang his gavel some more.

"So obviously you could not have been downloading anything on that evening."

"Nope."

"Then how do we explain the records that Ms Bungler presented showing gigabytes of data being downloaded from your network?"

I don't…"

"I did it!. I'm guilty!" came an anguished cry from the audience."

The judge was thrilled to be able to bang his gavel over and over.

"Didn't we already do the dramatic confession scene?" he queried.

The courtroom door opened and the fat hairy guy stuck his head in.

"Hey, I love these confession scenes. I wrote two of them in this story just because I could!"

Bang! Bang! "Throw the bugger out, bailiff!"

"You may step down, Victor," directed Mary Payson. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I call the thirteen-year-old kid in the audience as my next witness."

The thirteen-year-old kid was sworn in.

"Your name?" asked Mary Payson.

"Timothy Adey."

"And how do you fit into this ridiculous plot?"

"I'm the computer genius for my parents in the apartment over Mr Morehead. Since I'm a year older than the twelve-year-old kid that set up his network I was able to hack into it with ease."

"And why did you do that?"

"Because my parents Internet is too darn slow. I couldn't download the stuff I wanted on it."

"And just what were you downloading? Surely it wasn't kiddie-porn?"

"Give me a break! Those knuckleheads in the police can't tell the difference between kiddie-porn and anime!"

"What the hell is anime?" shrieked Helene Bungler.

"Counselor," the judge answered, "I take it back about your own series. You're too dumb to win any cases even with the writer's help. Everybody knows that Anime is Japanese-style animation. The characters usually have weird color hair and look like waifs. I kind of get off on the girls with big eyes and small tits. You really need to get out more."

"The defense rests."

Chapter 7 - The Foregone Conclusion

Naturally the jury said 'not guilty' and Mary Payson chalked up another courtroom victory. As they were leaving the courtroom, Helene Bungler stopped Mary Payson."

"Someday, Payson, I'm going to win."

"Not a chance, Helene. If you ever did win that fat hairy guy wouldn't write the story down. The fix is in, sweetie!"