Chapter 7
When Jill indicated how important it was that she talk to him about new developments in the case, Bob arranged to take the next day off. When he picked her up, he informed her that he had a picnic lunch packed and that they would do their talking in the quiet of the countryside where they had the combined advantage of privacy and warm summer sunshine.
"Besides, Jill," he added, "you need a respite from all this. Bring a bathing suit with you and well make it a real holiday."
"But I don't have one with me, Bob. Re member, when I packed to come down here, I wasn't really planning on a vacation."
"Sorry, Jill. Borrow one from Amanda or we'll pick one up at a store on the way."
"I doubt that Amanda would have one," Jill replied. "After all, her father would surely consider such attire to be sinful."
In town, they stopped in front of a ladies specialty store. Bob tried to give her the money to buy the suit.
"After all, Jill, it is my picnic."
"You've supplied everything else, Bob, I'm buying this and I don't want any argument. Don't worry, I'll select something nice and sedate befitting a woman of my advanced years."
"You do and I'll call off the picnic. I don't insist on the briefest bikini in the store, but I do want you to get something appropriate for a lovely young woman with a figure to be proud of."
"I promise at least some kind of a compromise. Shall I put it on in the store, or is there somewhere to change where we're going?"
"If you don't mind changing in the bushes and if you feel you can trust me, I think it would be simpler to change after we get there."
"If there's one person in the whole world I trust, Bob," she squeezed his arm, "it's you."
"You're safe lady." Bob decided to keep things light for now. "At thirty-one, I'm old and incapable. Besides," his voice became more gentle as he was unable to play the scene as lightly as he had planned, "your trust and respect happen to be very important to me."
The situation was becoming slightly tense, but Jill saved the day by ducking out of the car. Two minutes later, she was back, empty handed.
"Don't tell me they didn't have a suit to fit as lovely a figure as yours," Bob greeted her.
"I'm sure they did." Jill fought to hold back the tears. "Apparently I'm persona non grata in this town though. I was informed very curtly that they have nothing in my size. I see what you mean about Carl and this town. Can it be that he wants to get rid of me but just doesn't have the guts to say it?"
"It could be, but this is one time it isn't going to work. Come on, we're going back in."
"Please, Bob, it isn't worth it. Let them go."
"You surprise me, Jill. I thought you were a fighter, not a quitter."
"I don't want you to think that about me, Bob. I'll go in with you."
He hurried out of the car and held her door open for her.
"I'll apologize later for what I said," Bob whispered just before they reached the door.
"Thanks, you don't need to. I see already you were right. I have to beat more than just Carl, I have to show this whole damn town."
Seconds after they walked into the store, it was clear that the staff was prepared to ignore them. Bob was ready for it.
Unslinging his camera from his shoulder, he began taking pictures around the store.
"Mister Darrow," a haughty woman in her mid-fifties glared as she addressed him, "I have not given you permission to take pictures in my store."
"I'm aware of that, Mrs. Masters," Bob replied coolly as he snapped another picture. "I'm doing a feature on a town which executes a man for murder without being too fussy about proof, then persecutes his wife. Would you care to make a statement?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," the would-be duchess replied.
Taking a pad of paper from his pocket, Bob began making notes. The woman's composure began to break.
"Oh, Bob," Jill picked up a two piece suit from a box on the counter, "I'm sure this would fit me." She held up a two piece suit in lemon yellow latex.
"Looks fine to me." He turned to the woman who hovered nervously at his elbow, "Is it for sale, Mrs. Masters? There seems to be a price tag on it. Hold it up, Jill, I want a picture of it. Turn the price tag so it shows."
"Obviously it's for sale." The woman took it roughly from Jill's grasp. "The price is nine ninety-eight."
"Wrap it, please," Jill spoke softly, "I'll take it."
Glaring angrily, the woman wrapped the package roughly and handed it to Jill.
Passing the bag to Bob, Jill extracted a ten-dollar bill from her purse and turned to leave.
"Keep the change," Jill tossed over her shoulder as they moved toward the door. "It's twice as much as the service was worth, but I try to be charitable."
They laughed as Bob helped her into the car. "Chalk up one for the forces of true liberalism." Bob bowed her into the seat. "Next stop, picnicsville."
A moment later, he sat beside her and guided the car into the quiet street. They were still laughing a few minutes later when they approached the town limits. The sound of a police siren behind them jarred them into a more somber mood.
As the police car pulled alongside, Bob eased his car to the curb.
"Going a little fast, weren't you, boy?" The policeman stood beside the car as he spoke, his hand hovered near the gun on his hip.
"Come off it, Jeff, I was two miles under the limit and you know it. Since when did you get brave enough to start pushing the press around?"
"As I see it, boy, you were ten miles over the limit and I'm giving you a ticket for it. Maybe I should give you another one for the company you keep."
"Give me the ticket, chief. I'll be glad to pay. Oh, by the way, watch the front page. Next time I see you drinking in Stumpy's, you get your picture on page one."
"Don't threaten me, boy. You're just a lousy reporter. I can arrest you ten times a day if you try to give me a hard time."
"Jeff," Bob grinned arrogantly, "you may be the police chief, but we both know who owns you. Now give me the ticket and stop trying to sound like a man. A man has guts and you don't qualify."
"Boy," the chief's face flared near purple, "I'm not even going to bother giving you a ticket. I'm gonna get you better. I'm gonna get you real good."
The policeman turned then and went back to his car. Bob and Jill drove on, but the party mood had been spoiled.
"It isn't worth it, Bob. This town killed one innocent man. I'm leaving here before they get you too. Perhaps you should get out as well."
"No deal, Jill. If a little girl like you can get up on her hind legs and fight, then so can I. For years I've been satisfied with just being cynical about the way Carl runs the town. I realize now that isn't enough. If I have guts, I have to fight too."
"How can you fight that, Bob? He has the badge and the witnesses and the courts. They took my husband from me, Bob, don't let them take you too."
For a minute, Bob drove on without speaking. Jill's words had given him some special status. It became more important to him than a fight with the chief of police.
"A minute ago, Jill, I was prepared to take on this town single handed to prove to you that I'm a man. What you just said changed that. When I get back to town, I'll make my peace with Jeff. He doesn't want a fight any more than I do. On that basis, can we try to get back into our picnic mood for the rest of the day?"
"Of course we can, Bob, but with one thing to be cleared up. You don't have to do a single thing to prove yourself to me. Okay?"
"Okay, lady. Off to the picnic we go."
During the next twenty minutes as they drove along the relatively quiet highway, the tension melted. By the time Bob guided the car into the rutted road beside the river, they had recaptured much of the earlier mood. After five minutes of bouncing and exchanging comments on the road, he steered into a grassy clearing and pulled the car to a stop.
When they selected the best spot overlooking the slowly moving river, Bob delivered the picnic hamper and blanket.
"As of now, Bob Darrow," Jill announced, "your share has been done and mine begins."
Ignoring his protests, Jill unpacked the hamper and arranged the lunch on the blanket. She made one concession when she passed him the bottle of wine to open.
They sat down to eat then and what had been billed as a picnic turned out to be an outdoor banquet. They gorged on lobster, fried chicken and dry white wine. They looked at the crisp French bread and old cheese and decided to save it for later along with the bottle of red wine.
For a little while, they were silent. It was more than enough to enjoy the beauty of the day and the serenity of the setting. When his hand fell over hers, it was more by accident than design. He left it there and both seemed pleased with the contact, neither wanted more.
Bob finally broke the silence.
"You mentioned things you wanted to tell me, Jill. What say we discuss them now and save the rest of the day for things like swimming and laughing and the other luxuries of life?"
"Sounds like a good idea, Bob. I don't really want to spoil our wonderful day by introducing ugliness, but I really must talk to you about them."
"Talk, Jill." He rolled over so that he faced her as they both lay on the blanket. "I'm a good listener and if I can say or do anything to help, you can count on me."
Jill began then to tell him of her find in Carl's mystery room. In the beginning, it was difficult, but the gentle pressure of his hand on hers told her that he understood and gave her the courage she needed. It became easier then to tell him all about the pictures and movies including those of herself and, surprisingly more difficult, the movies of his own daughter threshing nude while another man strapped her.
When she finished, Bob refilled her glass and waited while she drank thirstily. She thanked him with her eyes and he understood.
"That's about it, Bob. I suppose I felt like a very smart detective, but now that I have all this evidence, I don't know what to do with it."
"Frankly, neither do I, but let's take a close look, maybe we'll come up with something."
"How about just turning it over to the police?"
"No, Jill. I'm afraid you know that would serve no purpose. It would tell them that Carl is a dirty old man, but what good would that do? It would also give them some very interesting pictures to pass around among their friends."
"It would also," Jill helped shoot down her own idea, "tip Carl to the fact that I'm still working on the murder and his guilt."
"Right. Now let's keep exploring."
"Oh, Bob, it's so hopeless. I'm just not equipped for this kind of work."
"Don't knock yourself, Jill. You've come up with a hell of a lot already."
"Yes, but how am I going to use it? How about going over the head of the local police?" Even as she said it, Jill's tone indicated that she didn't see any hope there either.
"Still no dice. Peeping at women and taking their pictures in the John may be dirty pool, but it's not a federal offense."
"I guess I knew that, Bob. I also guess I'm clutching at straws."
"Don't knock it, it's better than giving up. When you started this, you mentioned something about working on Carl from inside. That may still be our answer."
"I know you're right and thanks for the vote of confidence. I feel I'm making progress there, Bob, but again I'm working without a sense of direction."
"That may not be as bad as it seems. Couldn't it be that you'll just keep going along in the dark for a while and all of a sudden everything will fall into place? I'm not going to ask what you're doing, because I trust your intelligence. I trust too, that you will shout when you see you need help."
"Now you make me feel guilty."
"Guilty? What are you, some kind of nut?"
"Maybe, but some of the things I'm doing to...."
"That's enough." He cut her off. "The Marquis of Queensbury rules only apply to boxing. What you're involved in is no game. Use everyone and everything you can and don't look back."
"I like the way you make rules."
"Having already said I wouldn't interfere, I am now about to. From what you've seen of the family, do you see Lucy as being the weak link?"
"I don't follow you, Bob. A woman would have to be strong to tolerate Carl all these years."
"Perhaps, but I still see a haunted look in her eyes when she lets her guard down."
"Why didn't I see that? I stopped in the kitchen to chat with her the other day. She surprised me by talking as if she hadn't spoken to a soul in years. My God, Bob, I've been a fool not to have followed it up."
"So? There's still time."
"Yes, but I've been a fool concentrating on other areas when she was so ready to talk."
"Don't neglect those other areas. You can never tell where you're going to score. Hey," he looked at her quizzically, "what in hell's so funny?"
"Well, you have to admit, it sounded like you were suggesting I could make out with Lucy in a particular way." Why not, she added under her breath, I've done all right with her kids.
"Don't knock it, Jill. I'm not suggesting you play drop the hot panties with her, but if it seems like the thing to do at any time and you decide to go ahead, don't expect me to condemn you."
"Yon Robert is an extremely broadminded man, methinks."
"'Yon Robert wants you to win. In this case I'll go along with the end justifying any means."
"You know something, Bob? I don't have any idea how I'm going to go about it, but I know I'm going to win."