In the Heat of the Night

held it ready in his left hand. The headlights of the approaching car threw a brighter loom into the sky; as they came into view, Sam, on impulse, switched on his red spotlight. The driver of the other car hit his brakes and pulled up opposite. Sam stabbed him with the beam of the flashlight, and as the driver threw up his arm to shield his eyes, Sam recognized Eric Kaufmann.
    “What are you doing on this road at this hour?” Sam demanded.
    “I’m on my way to Atlanta. Why?” Sam sensed antagonism in the voice and he didn’t like it.
    “Is this the hour you usually start trips to Atlanta?”
    Kaufmann leaned partway out of the car window. “Is that any business of yours?” he asked.
    Sam stepped quickly from his car and stood beside Kaufmann, his right hand resting on the butt of his sidearm. “In case you have forgotten,” he said, biting each word off separately, “less than twenty-four hours ago someone committed a murder in this town. Until we catch him, everyone’s business is our concern, especially when they start out on long drives past midnight. Now explain yourself.”
    Kaufmann rubbed his fingers across his face for a moment. “I’m sorry, Officer,” he apologized. “I’m not myself and you know why. I was up at the Endicotts’ discussing the festival until a few minutes ago. Because a good deal of local money has been advanced for this project, we decided that we have to go ahead despite the fact that Enrico is dead. If we let it ride for a year, we’ll all be dead. I’m sorry—that’s a bad choice of words.” Kaufmann stopped and made an effort to collect himself. “Anyhow, I’ve got to go to Atlanta and see what can be done to locate a name conductor to take over. And I’ve got to arrange for the orchestra; it was all lined up but the news may have thrown everything off again.”
    Sam relaxed a little. "That’s fine, but why leave at this hour? According to the story you told me and Virgil, you got very little sleep last night. You can’t be in very good condition to drive.”
    “You’re right about that,” Kaufmann agreed. “I’m leaving, frankly, because I don’t want to be in the way up there. Duena is sleeping in the only guest room and right now she needs all the rest and quiet she can get. The only sensible thing was for me to leave, drive out of town a little ways, and go to a motel. Then I can get an early start and be in the city by noon. Any objections?”
    Sam knew that the story made sense and he didn’t want to let his dislike of the man color his judgment. And he remembered that this lonely mountain road was not in his patrol area. In fact, he was neglecting that area right now. And if the killer should be prowling somewhere down there...
    “How is everything on top of the hill?” he asked. “All right. Strained, of course, but there’s nothing wrong. Are you going up there? If you went up there now you’d disturb them and possibly give them a scare. I’d rather you didn’t, if you don’t mind.”
    Sam motioned Kaufmann to go on. “Be careful,” he warned. “Get off the road as soon as you can and get some sleep. Otherwise you may end up in the morgue alongside your boss.”
    Kaufmann winced but didn’t comment. “All right, I will. Follow me down if you like. But leave them alone up there; they’ve had all they can take for one day.” He pushed the drive button on his station wagon and eased it back into the center of the downgrade. Sam stood silently until Kaufmann had gone well on ahead, then he turned his car cautiously on the narrow road and followed.
    As he kept the car under control with second gear and brake, Sam reflected that Kaufmann and Duena were probably good friends. At least Kaufmann was in a position to see a lot of the girl, and the way those people traveled around, he probably had a monopoly. The thought made Sam mad. He had met the girl only once, on the day when her father had been murdered, and yet he felt he was entitled to an interest and to worry about her protection.
    The wheels of the car hit the city pavement and the ride smoothed out. As it did, Sam brought his mind back to the murderer loose in the city. At least there was a good chance he was still in the city. The streets were silent and dark now except for the lonesome dots of light under the widely scattered street lamps. Once more Sam reminded himself that he was a prime target; the baking heat of the night began to be streaked with a kind of chill that