In the Heat of the Night

way behind his desk and began to go through the pile of mail that was waiting for his attention. Even as he read, an idea shaped in his mind: he would check further into the evidence he had and if it could be satisfactorily explained away, he would consider releasing Sam. He knew he wouldn’t actually do it without a “break” one way or the other, but it eased his conscience to feel that he was being fair.
    Presently he became aware that something was taking place out in the lobby. He heard voices and he thought he caught the mention of his own name. He would have liked to go out to see what was happening, but the dignity of his office required him to wait to be asked.
    He didn’t wait long. Arnold appeared in the doorway and paused to be recognized.
    “Sir,” he said, “we’re receiving a complaint out here that I think you should hear. I mean I’m sure of it.
    Shall I bring the people in?”
    The chief nodded his agreement. There were confusing footsteps in the corridor and then two people were ushered into his office. The first was a rawboned man with an extremely lean face which had been weathered into a maze of hairline wrinkles. He was dressed in work clothing and stood with his shoulders forward in an attitude of perpetual suspicion. He wore steel-rimmed glasses, which gave his face an added hardness. He held the comers of his mouth tight from force of habit; Gillespie’s first reaction to him was that he would be a mean one if he got drunk.
    The other person was a girl, in her mid-teens as far as Gillespie could tell. She wore a sweater-and-skirt combination that emphasized the round ripeness of her body. She was slightly overweight, a fact which her flat-heeled shoes emphasized, but there was no mistaking the significance of every part of her body. Her clothes were much too tight and thrust her breasts upward and out in an exaggerated, unavoidable display. Gillespie thought she was headed for trouble if she had not already arrived.
    “You Chief Gillespie?” the narrow man asked. The three words were enough to show his lack of schooling and to reassure Gillespie that he was this man’s master.
    “That’s right,” Gillespie said. “What’s your problem?"
    “My name’s Purdy; this here is my daughter Delores.” Upon being introduced, Delores turned on a wide smile that was clearly designed to be captivating and significant. Gillespie looked back at the father.
    “She’s been got into trouble, Chief, and that’s why we came down here.”
    “The usual kind of trouble?”
    “I mean she’s gonna have a baby. That s the kind of trouble I mean.”
    Gillespie turned to the girl. “How old are you, Delores?” he asked.
    “Sixteen, “ she drawled brightly.
    Her father laid a hand on her shoulder. “That ain’t exactly right. You see, Delores, she was sick for a while and got behind in school. Kids is awful hard on somebody who ain’t as far as she ought to be, so we let it out Delores was fifteen when we moved here a year past. Actually she was seventeen then, so that makes her just eighteen now.”
    “That makes a lot of difference,” Gillespie explained. “In this state if a girl of sixteen gets in a family way, that’s statutory rape even though she gives her consent.”
    “Unless she’s married,” Purdy put in.
    “That’s right, unless she’s married. But if she’s eighteen or over, and gives her consent, then it’s fornication, which is a lot less serious offense.”
    Purdy’s face grew harder still. He looked as though he were listening for some sound he expected to hear in the far distance. “Well, what is it if some guy takes an innocent girl like my Delores here and smooth-talks her into doing what she hadn’t oughter. Ain’t that rape?” Gillespie shook his head. “That’s seduction, and while it’s a serious offense, it isn’t as bad as rape. Rape belongs with murder, armed robbery, and other offenses that are the most serious in the book. Suppose you both sit down and tell me just what happened.” Taking the cue, Arnold disappeared from the doorway. While Purdy and his daughter were still seating themselves, the intercom buzzed. Bill flipped the switch. “Virgil’s in the lobby, Chief. He wants to know if he can have your permission to come in. He says it’s important to the case he’s working on.”
    Gillespie drew breath to turn the request down flat. Then a sadistic thought hit him; he wondered how
    Purdy would like to describe his daughter’s