“I got tired of staying in my room.”
He came up the steps. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. Will I have any scars on my…?” She didn’t finish the question.
“No. You’ll have white marks where you were burned for a while, but eventually they’ll blend in and disappear.”
“Good,” she said in a relieved tone. “I was beginning to worry. They looked so bad.”
“You are getting better.” He laughed. It was good to see her vanity returning. “Come inside and let me have a look at you.”
They went up to her room. She undressed quickly without self-consciousness and wrapped a towel around her. He put his reflector on even though he really didn’t need it. He felt somehow that it made his examination seem more professional. She stretched out on the bed while he removed the dressings. Carefully he wiped away the ointment and studied the burns. After a moment he nodded with satisfaction. “You’re doing okay. I think we can leave the dressings off now. Just don’t wear anything that will be irritating.”
“You mean brassiere?”
He nodded.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? No one can see anything under your blouse.”
“That’s not it,” she said. “I bounce too much. It’s embarrassing.”
He laughed. “Walk slower, it will be all right.” He got to his feet. “I don’t have to come here anymore. Suppose you come down to my office in about a week and we’ll see how you are getting on.”
“Okay,” she said, sitting up. “Can I go back to work?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“You might run into those boys out there.”
“I’m not afraid of them. They’re not going to try anything again. Besides I can’t hang around the house all the time.”
“You can go back if you want to,” he said. “But don’t push it. You still haven’t got all your strength back.”
“I thought I’d wait over the weekend and go back on Monday. It’s easier at the beginning of the week.”
“Okay,” he said, “but don’t hesitate to call me if there’s anything you need.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” She watched the door close behind him, then got out of bed. She felt vaguely troubled. Bernie and Fred had been telephoning every morning but this morning there had been no calls. She slipped into a robe, went downstairs and on a hunch decided to call Bernie at home.
When he answered he said, “I was just going to call you.”
She looked at her watch. It was after eleven o’clock. “Why aren’t you at work?” she asked.
“Corcoran fired us,” he answered.
“You and Fred?” Surprise raised her voice. “What for?”
“I don’t know. But Marian’s mother has been making a big stink. God knows what kind of story Marian told her.”
“Where’s Fred?”
“He’s out at the club packing.”
“Will you run me out there?”
He hesitated a moment. “He’s pretty upset.”
“So am I,” she said. “Will you?”
“Okay. When?”
“Right now. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
***
“Fred! Fred! Her voice floated on the wind across the dunes.
She was standing at the crest of the small hill that separated the beach from the clubhouse. He raised his hand and waved, then stood waiting as she ran down the hill. There was, he thought, something simple and animal-like about the way she moved. He came out of the water to join her on the beach.
Without speaking, she took his hand. He stood very still for a moment, feeling the warmth in her fingers. Then, still holding hands, they began to walk along the water’s edge.
“It’s not fair,” she said finally.
His eyes sought hers, his voice was soft. “Nothing ever is, little girl.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“That’s what you are. A little girl just growin’ up. Trying being a woman on for size.”
“Maybe you’re right. I feel like that sometimes.”
They were silent again for a few minutes and then she said, “They can’t do this to you.”
He smiled. “They done done it.”
“They won’t do it if they learn the truth,” she said. “I don’t know what Marian’s mother said, but when I tell Mr. Corcoran what happened he’ll hire you back. You’ll see.”
“You’re not goin’ to tell that queer bastard nothin’!” His voice was almost savage.
She looked up at him, startled by his tone.
He hadn’t meant to frighten her. But she hadn’t heard the stories that had been circulated by Mrs. Daley and Mr. Corcoran. Suddenly JeriLee had become the villain of the piece while Marian had grown an instant halo. “I’ll find another job,” he said more softly.
She stopped. “But where will I find another friend like you?”
Her words seemed to reach into his heart and suddenly his eyes burned with tears. “You’re a lovely lady, JeriLee. You’ll find many friends in your lifetime.” He turned and stared out over the water, fearing that if he looked at her, he would take her into his arms and lose something he never really had. “It’s beautiful here,” he said. “So peaceful.”
She didn’t speak.
“I guess that’s what I’ll miss. Walkin’ on the beach barefoot in the mornin’ before anyone’s awake an’ there’s no people aroun’ to spoil it.” He deliberately lapsed into black talk. “Black folk got nothin’ lak this back in Harlem.”
“Won’t you ever come back to see me?”
He let go of her fingers. “I got no business here. Besides, I’ll be busy. Workin’ all summer an’ back to school in September.”
“You’re bound to have a day off sometime.”
There was an agony in his voice. “JeriLee, leave me be!”
He saw the tears spring suddenly to her eyes but held himself away from her. “I got to get back an’ finish packin’ or we goin’ to miss the bus to New York.”
She nodded, regaining her self-control. “I’ll walk back with you.”
They didn’t see the policemen until they crested the dune. The two uniformed men stopped in front of them. The bigger man looked at Fred. “You Fred Lafayette?”
Fred glanced at JeriLee before he spoke. “Yes.”
The policeman took a paper from his pocket. “I have a warrant here for your arrest.”
Fred took the warrant without looking at it. “What’s it for?”
“Assault and battery with a deadly weapon against the person of one Joseph Herron on the night of July tenth. Will you come quietly or do we have to put the cuffs on you?”
“I won’t make any trouble,” Fred said.
“Good boy.” For the first time the policeman relaxed. “Let’s go.”
JeriLee found her voice. “Where are you taking him?”
“County jail at Jefferson.”
“I know Chief Roberts,” she said. “Can I talk to him?”
“You can talk to anyone you like, lady, but he’s got nothin’ to do with this case. We’re out of the country sheriff’s department.”
“Don’t worry, Fred. I’ll talk to my father. He’ll get this straightened out.”
“You keep out of it, JeriLee, I’ll make out okay.”
“How can I keep out of it?” she asked. “I’m already in it.”
Chapter 14
Judge Winstead looked at the large old-fashioned gold pocket watch his father had given him fifty years ago when he had come into the law office. “It’s twelve forty-five,” he announced, snapping the case shut and returning the watch to his pocket. “First time since the war that Carson’s been late.”
Arthur Daley nodded. “Must be something important to hold him up.”
The monthly luncheon had become more than a ritual. On the third Friday of each month the three men would meet and review the concerns of the town. Together they
formed the core of power that moved Port Clare. Nothing could be accomplished without their stamp of approval, and though none of them had ever been elected to office it was understood by everyone, even the politicians, that the only way to get things in Port Clare was through them.
“Another drink?” the judge asked.
“No, thanks. I’m due out at the construction site at two. I want to have a clear head.”
“I’ll have one.” The judge signaled the waiter. “How’s it going?”
“Okay. I should have the first ten houses ready by September.”
“That’s not bad.”
“Still haven’t got county approval on the waterlines and sewers yet though.”
“Township approval okay?”
Daley nodded.
“No problem then,” the judge said. “I’ll have the state D.W.P. get on it.”
“That will be a help.”
“V.H.F. mortgages?” the judge asked.
“I don’t know yet. I wanted to talk to Carson about it. Thirty thousand is a high price for V.H.F. If I price the houses cheaper we won’t get the kind of people we want in there.”
“We can’t have that. We have a responsibility to the community not to lower the standards.”
“Yeah,” Daley said dryly. They understood that one of the most effective ways of keeping out undesirables was to price them out of the market.
The judge looked up. “Here he comes now.”
Carson was walking quickly toward them. His face was red and flushed. He dropped into his chair without apologies. “I need a drink,” he said.
Wisely the others said nothing until after he had taken a good swallow of his scotch. He put his glass squarely on the table. “We’ve got trouble,” he announced.
He didn’t wait for them to ask questions. “Your wife started the damned thing, Daley,” he said angrily. “Why didn’t you check with me before you let her go off half cocked?”
Daley was genuinely bewildered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That thing that happened out at the Thornton house last Sunday night.”
“What thing?”
“You don’t know?”
Daley shook his head.
“Your daughter and JeriLee Randall went out there from the club. Apparently two of the boys tried to rape JeriLee and were beating her up when two of her friends showed up. Murphy’s kid and a nigger from the club orchestra. The nigger put one of the boys in the Jefferson hospital.”
“I don’t see what my wife had to do with it,” Daley said.
“Apparently your wife found out about it and went after the nigger’s ass. She didn’t stop until she got Corcoran to fire the Murphy kid and the nigger. If she had stopped there it wouldn’t have been so bad. I could still have controlled it. I’d already talked Randall into not doing anything. But then your wife convinced the boy’s parents to sign an assault charge against the nigger. The county police took him in this morning. Now JeriLee says she’s going into court and file charges against the Thornton boy and his two friends. She also said she’d testify for the nigger. If she does that, Port Clare will get the kind of publicity we’re not looking for. Nothing like a juicy attempted rape charge against the son of one of the country’s most important writers to make headlines.”
“Any way of talking her out of it? Maybe her father—”
Carson interrupted the judge. “None. He’s just as upset as she is. He would have pressed charges the next day if I didn’t talk him out of it. But he’s heard the stories going around town making his daughter out to be a tramp and he’s boiling about it.” He looked at Daley. “You knew nothing about your daughter being out there?”
“No.” Daley’s voice was flat. “My wife never said anything to me.”
“Then you have to be the only man in town who hasn’t heard about it.” He turned to the judge. “You?”
“I heard some stories.”
“What do we do now?”
The judge thought for a moment. “If the charges were dropped we could probably keep it quiet without too much trouble. But someone will have to talk to the boy’s parents and to Randall.”
“I can take care of Randall,” Carson said. “But someone’s got to talk to the parents.” He turned to Daley. “Your wife got us into it, maybe she can get us out of it.”
“I don’t see how,” Daley protested. “If the boy was really hurt—”
“You better find a way. Don’t forget your daughter was involved in this too.”
“She had nothing to do with it.”
“How do you know?” Carson asked, his voice cold and blunt. “She and the boys were drunk when they left the club that night. Your wife found her and one of the boys naked when she went looking for her the next morning.”
“Oh, Jesus!” Daley groaned. “I kept telling Sally she was letting the kid get away with murder.”
Carson looked at him coldly. “Maybe you’re lucky after all. It could very well have come to that.”
Daley got to his feet. “I’d better skip lunch and go right home and talk to Sally.”
Carson watched the builder walk out of the restaurant, then turned to the judge. “You get on to the county prosecutor over in Jefferson and tell him to sit on it. That you have word that the charges are going to be withdrawn.”
“What if he already has impaneled a grand jury?”
“Tell him to stall then.”
“Okay,” the judge said.
“He’ll listen,” Carson said confidently. “Without Port Clare’s votes he never would have been elected. He won’t forget that.”
***
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me what was going on?” he yelled. “I felt like a damn fool. I was the only man in town that didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want to upset you, Arthur,” Sally said placatingly. “You had enough on your mind with the new construction.”
“Goddamn it, woman, how many times do I have to tell you to check with me if there are any problems? Have I ever refused to talk with you?”
She was silent.
“Now we got a real mess on our hands. Bad enough our daughter was fucking her brains out with those boys, now it’s going to be all over the papers.”
“Nobody will believe JeriLee’s story,” she said. “Who’s going to take the word of JeriLee and a nigger against Marian and those three boys?”
“Enough people. Especially when they bring in Dr. Baker to tell how badly JeriLee was beat up.”
“I didn’t know about that until today.”
“Of course you didn’t,” he said sarcastically. “You should have had brains enough when you found Marian bare-assed with that boy to leave well enough alone. Why weren’t you satisfied with getting the nigger canned? What made you push the kid’s parents into signing a complaint?”
“I didn’t push them,” she protested. “What could I say to them when they called me to check on their son’s story? Especially after I had been yelling at Corcoran to fire him for what he did.”
“But you said you would back their complaint.”
“I had no choice. It was either that or admit that I knew what Marian had done. I didn’t think it would go this far.”
“That’s the trouble. You didn’t think. You never think. You’re stupid.”
She began to cry.
“Stop bawling,” he snapped. “That ain’t going to solve anything.” He paused for a moment. “Where are they now?”
“Who?” she sniffled.
“Who the hell do you think I’m talking about? That kid’s parents. Where are they?”
“They’re staying at the Thornton house.”
“Call them up and tell them we have to see them. It’s important.”
“I can’t do that. I don’t know them well enough.”
“Oh, Jesus!” he groaned in despair. “Tell them your daughter’s been fucking one of their sons or maybe both. That makes us practically in-laws. That should be r
eason enough.”
“Why do you have to do everything Carson tells you? Can’t you once do anything on your own?”
“Because I owe him two hundred and ninety thousand in building loans, that’s why. If it weren’t for him I’d still be a carpenter building one house at a time. Now get on that phone.” He walked to the door. “I don’t care what you say to them, but get an appointment.”
“Where are you going?”
“Upstairs to see that little cunt we call our daughter,” he said harshly. “If she won’t tell me the truth about that night, I’ll beat it out of her.”
He slammed the door violently. She heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs as she reached for the telephone. She began to dial the number but stopped when she heard her daughter shout in pain. Her fingers froze over the dial. There were no more sounds from upstairs. Slowly she began to dial again.
***
As he pressed the doorbell, he automatically cast an appraising eye around the property. Prime beachfront land. At least forty thousand an acre. The house was worth a good seventy thousand too.
The door was opened by a slim tired-looking man of about fifty. “I’m Walter Thornton,” he said. “Come in.”
He put out his hand. “Arthur Daley,” he said. “My wife and my daughter Marian.”
Thornton shook his hand and nodded at the other two. “Mr. and Mrs. Herron are in the library.”
“I’m sorry to be bustin’ in on you like this,” Daley said after having been introduced to the Herrons, “but I feel we have something important to talk about. It concerns all of us here in this room.”
“I think everything has been taken care of,” Mr. Herron said. “The police have that boy in custody.”
“I’m not too sure we all did not act kind of hasty.”
“I’m not sure I understand you, Mr. Daley,” Thornton said.
“What I mean…” Daley hesitated a moment, embarrassment creeping into his voice. “We did not get the true story of what happened that night.”
“My son was beaten severely,” Mrs. Herron said. “I don’t need to know any more than that.”
“Mrs. Herron, you might not like to hear what I have to tell you, but did you ever stop to think maybe your son brought it on himself? Maybe he was doin’ something he shouldn’t?”
The Lonely Lady Page 9