Chapter 8

*** Archive Note: This book did indeed contain two chapters labeled "CHAPTER EIGHT"

Lafe Bryant lay on the cot in his jail cell and idly flipped the pages of a girlie magazine. Ordinarily he would have stared long and lewdly at each of the nude women arranged in full color in erotic poses. But just now his mind was elsewhere. For the life of him he could not drive away the thoughts that kept returning to torment him. If he were found guilty, would they send him to the chair? He began to sweat. No! They couldn't. He was still a minor. But the idea of spending the rest of his days in jail wasn't particularly comforting. Damn it! Why did the little tramp have to die? He hadn't hit her that hard. Or had he? He must have. Idly, he wondered if she'd had a miscarriage.

Lafe had been allowed to make one phone call. He'd called his father in New York. The elder Bryant had listened stoically while the boy had given a brief explanation of why he was in jail. Then in his usual booming voice, he'd said, "Don't say another word on this telephone, son. Don't say anything to anyone until Elton and I get there. Do you understand?"

"Okay, sir." Elton Ferris was his father's lawyer, one of the smartest in New York City. "When will you and Mr. Ferris be arriving, sir? I hate this place."

"We'll grab the first plane. Should be there in a couple of hours. Now keep your mouth shut."

"Yes, sir."

Lafe was afraid of his father. He always had been. The old man was big in size and big in every other way. He'd fought his way up from a clerk in a loan investment company to the company's president. He owned the majority of stock and had invested wisely in other stocks. He was, according to all financial reports, a millionaire many times over. Although he feared his father, Lafe knew that he held an ace in the hole. He was an only child. His mother was dead, and he was the apple of the old man's eye.

Lafe tossed the girlie magazine aside and grinned smugly to himself. If anyone could get him out of this mess, his old man could. The boy had unlimited faith in his father's ability to do anything.

A half hour later a jailer unlocked the door to Lafe's cell.

"Come along, son. Your father's here."

Lafe followed the jailer down a short corridor and into the visitor's room. His father and Elton Ferris sat at a table. Lafe tried to look at his father and couldn't.

"Look at me!" Bryant barked in his deep, bass voice.

With an effort, Lafe lifted his eyes and for an agonizing moment met those of his father.

"By God," the old man thundered. "You are guil-"

He broke off, and Lafe whined. "Listen, sir, I can explain-"

"Shut up!" Bryant snapped. "Don't say another word until I tell you to."

"Yes, sir."

Bryant turned to his lawyer and nodded. Ferris, a tall, thin, balding man with a thick brown moustache, got up and moved about the room, peering under tables and other items of furniture. Satisfied at last, he returned to the table and nodded.

John Bryant said, "They probably never heard of a bugging operation in this hick town, but I don't want to take any chances." He looked at his son. "Go ahead. Give it to us right from the beginning, and tell it all." He glanced at the lawyer, but Ferris had already removed paper and pencil and was prepared to take notes.

Lafe began, "Well, I'd been seeing this girl, Nancy Poole, quite regularly . ... "

"Were you screwing her."

"Yes, sir."

John Bryant nodded. "I can't disapprove of that. You're old enough to know that your pecker should be used for other purposes than pissing through. Now I suppose you're going to tell me that you knocked her up."

"Yes, sir. I did."

"For Christ's sake, didn't the kid ever hear of the pill?"

"She was taking them but, well, she ran out of them."

"And you banged her just the same."

"Yes, sir. She wanted it, so I gave it to her."

John Bryant permitted the ghost of a smile to touch his lips. So far this wasn't as bad as he had feared. A simple abortion could take care of everything. But why was the kid in jail?

"Go on," he said.

"Well, Nancy and I waited another month. She didn't come around, so I beat her up."

"You what?"

"I'd heard that sometimes a pregnant girl would have a miscarriage if they were involved in an accident."

John Bryant said slowly, "You'd better fill me in on that. Let's have the details."

Lafe explained what he'd done exactly as he'd told Adam.

"Well, did she have the miscarriage?"

"No, sir. She died."

"She died. The girl you beat up died?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why, you goddamn fool."

"Yes, sir., ;

"And that's why you're here in jail. You're accused of murder!"

"Yes, sir. Doc Gleason at the hospital examined her and said she hadn't been hit by a car as I told them. He said she'd been beaten by somebody who used a club." Lafe tried to grin, but couldn't. "They can't prove a thing, sir. I have an alibi."

Elton Ferris spoke for the first time. "Your alibi better be good, Lafe. You're in one hell of a mess."

Ignoring the attorney, John Bryant said, "What kind of an alibi?"

"It's rather a long story, sir."

"We'll take the time to listen."

"Well, one night I was walking along Faculty Row and I saw a girl running behind the cottages. I was curious because I recognized her. She was Anne Yeaton, the English One teacher. I followed her. She entered the back door of the cottage at the far end of the row. That's where Adam Lombard, the football coach lives."

"So you spied on them."

"Yes, sir. First I went up to the back door and listened. When I heard them go into the bedroom, I sneaked around to that side of the cottage. The drapes at the window were closed, but they didn't reach the sill. There was enough space for me to see what was going on.

"And what was going on?"

This time Lafe did manage a slight grin. "Man! I saw a pornie movie once. This was twice as good!"

"I suppose afterward you went home and beat your meat."

"No, sir. I went to see Nancy. You can understand how hot I was. Pills or no pills I would have laid her."

"How many times did you witness this bedroom drama?"

"Five, sir."

"And each time you screwed Nancy afterward?"

"Whenever I could get to her, sir."

John Bryant was silent for a moment, studying his son, his mind working.

Elton Ferris spoke for the second time. "How does that give you an alibi for the night of the 'accident.' Lombard and Miss Yeaton would simply deny your story. It would be the word of two adults against that of a boy."

"I was coming to that, sir. I went to see Coach Lombard. He's my student counselor."

"Are you going to tell us that you told Lombard you'd been watching him fuck the teacher?"

"No, sir. I was much more clever than that. I told him what I'd done to Nancy and-"

"You told him that you beat Nancy up? You ore a goddamn fool."

"Wait a minute, sir. I had to tell him."

"Why?"

"Because the thought crossed my mind that I might have to have an excuse on the night of the accident. Even though I told a straight story, they might suspect something."

"Which they did."

"Yes, sir. So I told Coach Lombard that I was visiting him on the night of the accident. He was helping me with my homework. I told him that he mustn't forget, that unless, I told him, he was having company that night."

For a moment there was silence in the room. A look of grudging admiration had crept into John Bryant's eyes. By God, the kid was clever. Just like his old man. Clever. Crafty. Cunning. Suddenly he leaned forward. "By the way, son, what happened to your face? Did someone beat you up? The police?"

"No, sir. Coach Lombard beat me up."

"Why?"

"Because he said he didn't like what I did to Nancy. He called me a rotten little cowardly bastard. Then he swung on me. I tried to fight back, but there wasn't any use. He's twice as big as I am," Lafe described.

"Why that dirty sonofabitch! Hitting my boy! I'll break every bone in his body. I'll-

Face livid, Bryant rose. Elton Ferris rose, too. Calmly, he said, "Take it easy, John. Lafe's got a murder rap facing him. We won't beat it if you go knocking hell out of the football coach. We both know there are better ways. Easier ways."

Slowly, John Bryant relaxed and dropped back into his chair. "Yeah," he said. "You're right, Elton, about easier ways. Knocking the hell out of the guy can come later."

Bryant looked across at Lafe. "Don't worry, son. I'll get you out of this. I've never failed you yet, and I won't now."

Lafe's eyes glowed with relief and triumph. "I knew you would, sir. I just knew it! Gosh, what a relief."