Sam showed some signs of life. “Virgil, I wish you wouldn’t mess in this. I know you’re trying to help, but …”
“Also,” Virgil continued, “I think I know why you didn’t want to go past the Purdy house that night.”
“Have you been driving past there?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“No,” Tibbs answered, “I didn’t have to. Harvey Oberst told me all I needed to know the day he was here in the station.”
He stopped then and there was silence for a while. Sometimes he found it best to let someone have the opportunity to collect his thoughts. He knew that Sam was thinking and that is exactly what he wanted him to do. Finally Sam broke the silence.
“Virgil, let’s go back to the beginning. You’ve said several times I changed route on you that night. Why do you think so?”
“There’s nothing to that,” Tibbs replied. “The night we were together you detoured down a short stretch of dirt road. When I was waiting for you outside the diner a little after that, I noticed the dust the road had left on the car.”
“That’s not unusual,” Sam interrupted.
“Granted, but the night you picked me up at the railroad station, there was no dust on the car. That means you couldn’t have gone down that dirt road shortly before you picked me up.”
“Maybe you just didn’t notice the dust.”
“I noticed. Besides, I had a hunch the car had been washed that afternoon, and I later checked with the garage that maintains the official cars. Even a light film of dust would have been visible.”
“You mean when I arres- when I brought you in for questioning, you still took the time to notice how much dust there was on my car? You couldn’t, you were a little too scared at that point, Virgil.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Tibbs answered. “I simply kept my mouth shut until I knew what the score was. It was the only safe thing to do. But I kept my eyes open because I’m trained to do that.”
“Well, for example, how do you know that it hadn’t rained and settled the dust on that short stretch?” Sam persisted.
“I checked the weather-bureau records on that point.”
Silence took over once more. Sam digested the information he had just been given and decided that to hold out any longer would be not only foolish but probably useless. Whether he liked to admit it or not, Tibbs knew his business. Then Sam reflected that at least the man whose race had created a barrier he had found almost impossible to climb was on his side. That was a comforting thought. He decided to give Tibbs his reward.
“So far,” he admitted, “you’re right.”
“I wish you’d told me earlier, Sam,” Tibbs said more easily. “It would have saved a lot of time-your time, I mean.” To Sam’s surprise Tibbs rose to his feet. “For your information, I had a little talk with Mr. Purdy and his daughter Delores. I scared them pretty well with the prospect of medical examinations to uphold her story, then I made a date for them to come in here late this afternoon for an ‘examination.’ I didn’t say what kind. If I can get her to change her story in front of witnesses, then the charge against you goes out the window. When you’ve been proved innocent of that, the rest will be easier.”
For the first time Sam felt the desire to cooperate. “Virgil, maybe it would help if somehow you could find out who did knock her up. I know that’s asking a lot.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Virgil replied. “I think I already know the answer.”
When Bill Gillespie was told that Virgil Tibbs wanted to see him, he decided to keep Virgil waiting a few minutes just to keep him in his place. After what he considered a proper disciplinary period, he buzzed the intercom and said that he could come in.
Because of the delay, Tibbs walked into Gillespie’s office at almost the exact moment that George Endicott escorted Duena Mantoli into the lobby of the police station. Endicott was edgy about the call, but he realized he had a determined girl on his hands and he preferred to have the interview with Gillespie take place when he could at least exercise some control. He stepped to the desk. “We’d like to see Chief Gillespie,” he stated. “Is he free right now?”
Pete, knowing he was addressing a councilman and the wealthiest citizen of Wells, said, “You can go right in. Nobody’s with him but Virgil.”
They walked down the hall and George tapped on the side of the open door. Gillespie looked up, saw who it was, and said, “Come on in.”
Then he stood up when he saw Duena also appear in the doorway. “Sit down, please,” he invited after he had been introduced to the girl. “Virgil, run along and I’ll talk to you some other time.”
Virgil did not move to go. “What I have to say is fairly important, Chief Gillespie. Since Miss Mantoli and Mr. Endicott are here, perhaps it would be just as well if they heard it, too.”
Gillespie raised his fist to bang it on his desk. Backtalk he would not take from anyone, least of all a man who stood on the wrong side of the color line. Endicott saw it and quickly spoke first. “This sounds interesting. With your permission, Bill, I’d like to hear what Mr. Tibbs has to say.”
“So would I,” Duena added.
Gillespie could see no way out. Inwardly vowing a quick and deadly reprisal the moment he had Tibbs alone, he accepted temporary defeat. “As you wish, Mr. Endicott.”
They all sat down. “Before I begin,” Virgil said, “I’d like to ask that Sam Wood be brought in here to listen.” He looked at Gillespie. “Also Chief Gillespie may want to ask him some questions.”
Fuming and cornered, Gillespie flipped his intercom and gave an order; a few moments later Sam Wood was ushered into the room. Gillespie nodded silently toward a chair and Wood sat down. With a second nod Gillespie dismissed Arnold, who had brought the prisoner in. Still holding down a dangerous inner pressure, he stared hard at Tibbs. “All right, Virgil, you’d better make it good.”
Tibbs laced his fingers together and pressed them tightly. He stared at them for a second or two before he began speaking. “I’m going to start with the personality of a young woman, Delores Purdy.” He looked up. “Miss Purdy is the daughter of a visibly retarded man whose intellectual level and education are both substandard. I haven’t met her mother, but her family background, at the best, is lacking.”
“I know all this,” Gillespie snapped.
Tibbs waited a moment and then went on. “Delores Purdy is eighteen years old; she passes for sixteen so she will not be scoffed at in school for being two grades behind the point where she should be. The fact that she is actually eighteen puts her over the age of consent, so any question of statutory rape is eliminated right there.
“Now Miss Purdy has one characteristic which has ap peared on the police records quite clearly. She is an exhibitionist. For some reason she has the idea that her body is enchanting and likely to provide an unqualified thrill to anyone who sees it-anyone male, that is. It is fairly common in girls of her age who feel, in one way or another, that they have been deprived of social acceptance. They believe they can overcome this handicap by sensational conduct, irresistible to males.”
He looked up to see how Duena was taking his words. She showed frank interest; so did the other three men. He went on. “The most common thing that happens is that a girl in these circumstances gives herself to a man in the hope of attaching him to her for the sake of her physical advantages. Sometimes it works, sometimes it simply brings about a further rejection.
“According to Harvey Oberst, who is a little older than she is, she displayed herself to him without his even asking for that favor. I believe this is so because of two supporting pieces of evidence. The first is her visit here to file a complaint against Mr. Wood. It is a serious matter to come into a police station to make an accusation against a popular and respected officer. But instead of being in the least upset, she had on figure-revealing clothes and wore her brassiere in such a way that it pushed her breasts up in an unnatural and highly conspicuous position. That is not the action of a modest girl who has been violated.”