***
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 doorbell rang. Thornton looked surprised.
“That must be Judge Winsted and John Randall,” Daley said quickly. “I took the liberty of asking them to join us. John maybe knows more about this than any of us, an’ the judge is a good friend of mine. We may need his advice.”
Thornton went to the door and returned a moment later with the two men. “Now, Mr. Daley,” Thornton said, “supposing you continue.”
“I asked John Randall to come because his daughter is involved in this.”
Mrs. Herron’s voice was cold. “She certainly is. It was her friend that attacked my son.”
John slowly got to his feet. His voice was calm but he was shaking inside. “I’m going to say this once and I’m not going to repeat it. Your son, Mrs. Herron, and your son, Mr. Thornton, attempted to rape my daughter. They beat her severely and savagely burned her breasts and body with a live cigarette after bringing her here under the pretense that they were going to take her home from work. We were persuaded by friends not to bring charges in view of good community relations but we cannot stand idly by and see the boy who saved my daughter go to jail. Despite the fact that none of us want public attention, my daughter and I are planning to file these charges against your sons first thing in the morning.”
Thornton was the first to break the heavy silence. “Obviously you must believe this story, Daley, because you brought Mr. Randall here. What I don’t understand is why you are so convinced.”
Arthur cleared his throat. “My daughter was there. She corroborates JeriLee’s story.”
“They’re both lying!” Mrs. Herron burst out. “What was she doing while it was going on? Standing idly by?”
“Tell her, Marian,” Arthur said harshly.
Marian began to cry.
“Tell her!” he repeated.
“Mike and I were makin’ out on the other side of the pool while Joe and Walt were with JeriLee.” She sniffled.
“Didn’t you see what was happening?” Thornton asked.
“We couldn’t see in the dark too good. Besides, we thought they were only fooling with her. Just before that they pulled her into the pool with her clothes on.”
“I still don’t believe you,” Mrs. Herron said stiffly. “Neither of my boys would do things like that.”
“Sally,” Arthur said. “Tell Mrs. Herron what you found when you came the next morning to get Marian.”
“They both came out of the bedroom upstairs. They were naked,” she said in a hushed voice.
Thornton walked to the door that led to the back. “Walt,” he called. “Mike back there with you?” He didn’t want for an answer. “Both of you come in here a minute.”
A moment later the boys came into the room, and stopped when they saw Marian and the others.
“You didn’t tell me the whole story about what you tried to do to JeriLee that night, did you?” Thornton asked his son in a pained voice.
The boy looked at the floor. “We didn’t mean to hurt her, Dad.” His voice broke. “It all started as a joke.”
“It seems a terrible mistake has been made,” he said. “Now what can we do to make it right?”
“That’s why I asked the judge to come along,” Daley said. “He’ll tell us what to do.”
Chapter 15
Jack and an older man Fred had never seen before were in the sheriff’s office when the policeman brought him from the cell. “You’re being released, boy,” the sheriff said. “The charges have been dropped.”
The sheriff took a heavy manila envelope out of the desk and pushed it toward him. “Your things are in there. Would you please check them?”
Fred opened the envelope and took out the contents. His ten-dollar Timex was still there, so was the small gold ring his mother had given him when he graduated high school and the silver-plated I.D. chain bracelet with his name engraved on it that had been a gift from his sister. Two single crumpled dollar bills and seventy cents in small change made up the rest of the envelope’s contents. He put the watch, ring and bracelet on and the money in his pocket.
“Is it all there, boy?” the sheriff asked.
“Yes.”
The sheriff held a paper out to him. “Sign that. It’s a receipt for your property.”
Quickly he took the pen and signed the inventory sheet.
“Everything’s okay now,” the sheriff said. “You can go.”
Jack pumped his hand enthusiastically. “I’m glad you’re out. I jes’ spoke to the agent. He got us a gig up in Westport.”
Jack saw Fred look questioningly at the older man with the white hair and mustache. “This is Judge Winsted,” he said quickly. “He got things straightened out for us.”
The judge held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Fred.”
“Thank you, Judge.”
The judge turned to the sheriff. “Peck, do you have a room where I can talk to my client?”
“Sure thing, Judge,” the sheriff said, pointing. “Through that door there. The room is empty.”
Fred and Jack followed the judge into the other room. The judge pulled a chair up to the small table and sat down heavily. “The older I get, the hotter it gets. I wonder if it’s a sign of something.”
The judge gestured for them to sit down. “In case you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” he said, “I’m representing JeriLee and her father.”
Fred nodded.
“When they came to me early this afternoon, I could see there might be a terrible miscarriage of justice. I couldn’t permit a thing like that.”
“Lucky for me,” Fred said. “They were going to throw the book at me.”
“Couldn’t happen,” the judge said definitely. “I must admit that things get fouled up sometimes but in the end justice manages to win out.”
Fred didn’t believe the statement any more than he thought the judge believed it, but he didn’t say anything.
“You have a real friend in JeriLee. You know that. Despite what it would do to her, she was ready to go into court to prove your case.”
“JeriLee’s a very special lady.”
“She sure is,” the judge agreed. “She’s got much more sense than most girls her age. Anyway, soon’s I heard her story I went right out and saw that boy’s parents. It didn’t take me long to convince them of their error. Then I went over to the club to see Corcoran but it was too late to get him to take you back. He had already hired another orchestra. I didn’t think that was right, because you were still out of money you would have made if you had continued working there. I didn’t think that was the way to reward a hero.”
“I’m glad to get out of jail,” Fred said. “I don’t care about the job. Or the money.”
“It still isn’t right. Somebody ought to be made to pay for the anguish you went through.”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “That po’ boy went through a lot jes’ for doin’ right.”
“Exactly how I felt. I had another discussion with those concerned and they have agreed to reimburse you for the loss of employment. Figuring that you all lost five weeks’ work at the club at two hundred dollars a week plus board, which was worth another two hundred, we came to a total of two thousand dollars.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope from which he removed a package of banknotes that he spread fanwise on the table in front of him.
Fred looked at the twenty hundred-dollar bills. “I don’t want their damn charity money!” he snapped.
“It’s not charity, son. It’s justice.”
“Man, the jedge is right,” Jack said. “That’s four hundred dollars fer each of us. Take it, boy. That’s gravy money.”
“You knew about it?”
“Sure I did. That there money is for all of us. We all lost our jobs along with you.”
“You take it, son,” the judge advised. “It’s the right thing to do. After all, there’s no reason why your friends should suffer because of what happened.”
Fred thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” he said.
The judge smiled. “That’s good thinking.” He took another paper from his pocket and put it on the table in front of Fred. “This piece of paper is a release by which you and the people who pressed charges against you mutually agree that you won’t hold each other in further liabilities. It’s just a form thing. When you sign it the money is yours.”
Fred signed the paper without reading it.
“I have to be getting back to Port Clare,” the judge said as he placed the paper in his pocket. “It’s a pleasure to have met you. And I’m glad I was able to be of service to you.”
Fred shook his hand. “Thank you, Judge. Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you’ve done. I’m very grateful.”
When the door closed behind the judge Fred turned to Jack. The drummer was grinning from ear to ear.
“What is it, Jack?”
“That judge is the shittiest character I ever met. He was goin’ to try to get you to sign that piece of paper for a hundred dollars. But I knew you had them by the short hairs.” He picked up the money and fingered it lovingly. “Oh, baby, don’ that look pretty? The easiest day’s work any of us ever had.”
***
She was waiting at the foot of the steps when he came out of the building. And suddenly he realized that without knowing it he had been looking for her.
He stopped on the bottom step. “JeriLee.” His voice was soft.
She looked into his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Actually they were very nice. One of the best jails I’ve ever been in.”
There was a startled expression on her face. “Have you ever been in jail before?”
“No,” he laughed. “I was jes’ foolin’. You didn’t have to come all the way over here. I would have called you.”
She looked at him skeptically.
“I mean it. I had to thank you for what you did.”
Jack tugged at his arm. “It’s goin’ on seven o’clock, Fred. We better git a move on if’n we goin’ to make the last bus to the city.”
“You got transportation back to Port Clare, JeriLee?”
“Yes. Bernie loaned me his car. He’s working tonight.”
“Cocoran give him back his job?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to go back to work there?”
“I was going to, but now I don’t think so.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Catch up on my reading. Maybe try to finish the story I’ve been writing.”
“Man, we better hurry,” Jack said.
“You go on ahead, Jack. I’ll catch up to you.”
“You know where the bus station is?”
“I’ll find it.”
“The bus leaves at seven thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
They watched Jack hurry off. “Where you parked, JeriLee? I’ll walk you over.”
“Not far, just the next block.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Jack’s got another job lined up in Westport.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “Bernie asked me to give you his regards and wish you luck for him.”
“Your boyfriend’s okay.”
“He’s not my boyfriend really. We just sort of grew up together.”
“That’ll do it every time.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Yes,” he lied.
“Is she pretty?”
“I guess so.”
“What kind of an answer is that?”
“It’s kind of hard for me to tell. You see, we sort of grew up together.”
She looked at him quizzically for a moment. “That’ll do it every time,” she said finally with mock seriousness.
They both laughed. “Here’s the car,” she said. “I’ll drop you at the bus station.”
A few minutes later she pulled the car to the curb in front of the bus terminal and looked across the seat at him. “I would like for us to be friends,” she said.
“We are.”
“I mean… to see each other again.”
“No, JeriLee,” he said after a moment of silence. He opened the door and started to get out.
She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Fred,” she said gently. “For everything.”
“JeriLee.”
“Yes?”
“I lied, JeriLee. I have no girlfriend.”
She smiled. “You didn’t have to tell me. I knew that.”
“Goodbye, JeriLee.” He didn’t wait for her reply but moved quickly into the bus terminal. He didn’t turn to look back until he was inside the building. And by then she was gone.
Chapter 16
She came out of the five-and-ten, walked to the corner and waited for the light to change. A car pulled up to the curb. “Can I give you a lift, JeriLee?”
It was Dr. Baker. “I thought you were coming into the office,” he said as she got into the car.
“I’ve been feeling all right. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother. I’m your doctor.”
When she didn’t answer, he said, “I thought you were going back to work.”
“I changed my mind,” she said shortly.
He stopped for a light and turned to her. “What’s wrong, JeriLee?”
“Nothing.”
The light changed and he put the car into gear. “Cigarette?” he asked, holding the pack toward her after coming to a stop in front of her house.
She shook her head but made no move to get out of the car.
“You can talk to me,” he said, lighting a cigarette.
She turned away from him. He reached out, turned her face toward him and saw the tears in her eyes. “You can talk to me,” he repeated gently. “I’ve heard the stories too.”