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“So you invited him in? He didn’t have to force his way?”

“Oh no. I told him to wait in the front room while I dressed. I went into the bedroom and had just slipped off my robe when...” She paused and fixed her eyes on the floor. With an effort she went on, “I was stark naked when he suddenly came into the bedroom. He had taken off all his clothes in the front room and was naked too. He grabbed me before I could even let out a gasp of surprise.”

“Had you closed the bedroom door?” I asked.

She blushed and glanced at her daughter again. “Not completely,” she said in a reluctant tone. “I left it ajar, but it was pushed to enough so that I couldn’t be seen from the front room. I left it ajar in case he tired of waiting and decided to tell me his business while I dressed. We could have carried on conversation easily enough, as the bedroom gives right off the front room.”

“I see,” I said. “So he pushed open the door and grabbed you. Did you fight him?”

“I tried. But he’s an awfully powerful young man. Wait till you see him. Besides, I was nearly out of my wits from fright.”

“Did you scream?”

She shook her head. “He held his hand over my mouth every time I tried.” She paused, looked at her daughter and said in a low, distressed voice, “Now that it’s over, I can think of all sorts of things I might have done. Bitten his palm, for example, or rammed my knee into his groin. But I was so paralyzed by fear, I just couldn’t think. I finally just gave up.”

I said, “Now please don’t let my next question upset you, but it’s one I have to have answered. It’s of extreme importance, because it makes all the difference between the charge of attempted rape and actual rape. Did he succeed in his attack?”

“Yes,” she said nearly inaudibly. “Eleanor came in before he could...”

When her voice trailed off, I looked at the blonde daughter. “You actually witnessed the act?” I asked.

She nodded with a mixture of distaste and anger. “It was just luck that I came home. Ordinarily I lunch downtown. But I had a headache and the boss let me take off a little early for lunch so I could run home for some headache tablets I had there. I’m a stenographer for Ward and Thomas.”

“I see. So you came home unexpectedly. Just what did you see?”

“The first thing I saw was a man’s clothes thrown all over the sofa. Then I saw the bedroom door standing wide open and heard Mother groan. I rushed into the bedroom, saw what was happening, and started to beat on the man’s back with my fists. He rolled off the bed, and Mother began to scream hysterically. I started to scratch the man’s face, but he gave me a push that knocked me down. Then he ran into the front room. I guess he must have dressed and rushed out, but I didn’t go to see what he was doing. I was too busy trying to comfort Mother, who was sobbing and trying to tell me what had happened, both at the same time. Mr. Turner was gone when I finally looked in the front room. Then I phoned the police.”

I turned back to Mrs. Haliburton. “You understand that there’s no way to keep your identity a secret when we prosecute this man. The unfortunate thing about a rape case is that the victim has to suffer unwelcome publicity along with the culprit. Unless she’s a minor, which you’re not.”

The woman looked upset. She glanced at the blonde Eleanor, who said, “Are you suggesting that we don’t press charges against this beast just to avoid publicity?”

“No,” I told her. “Forcible rape is a felony, and you don’t have that choice, once you’ve reported the crime. I’m merely explaining what you’re in for. We’ll try to keep the unpleasantness to a minimum, but your friends and acquaintances are all going to read about the rape in the newspapers. And no doubt the tabloids will carry your picture also.”

I looked at the mother again. “Incidentally, does your husband know what happened yet?”

“I’m a widow,” she said.

“We have no close relatives,” Eleanor said. “We’ll stand the publicity. We want this animal jailed so he can’t harm other women.”

“Fine,” I said. “With the co-operation of both of you, we ought to be able to get him jailed fast. You can go home now. Someone from the district attorney’s office will get in touch with you as soon as a prosecutor is assigned to the case and the prosecution strategy is worked out. I’m just making the preliminary investigation, you understand, and probably won’t try the case.”

“Will there necessarily be a trial?” Mrs. Haliburton asked. “If he agrees to plead guilty, won’t he just be sentenced?”

“He can’t plead guilty to rape in this state,” I told her. “The maximum sentence is death, and the law requires a mandatory not-guilty plea for capital crimes. There has to be a trial whether Turner wants one or not.”

I turned to Lieutenant Gordon. “Let’s take a look at the prisoner now.”

The lieutenant had Charles Turner brought to the interrogation room, and we questioned him there. He was a powerfully-built man of about twenty-five with a face which would have been handsome if it hadn’t worn such a sullen expression. I disliked him the instant I saw him, not just because he was a rapist, but because he looked like the wise-guy type.

But because he was the son of a congressman, I adopted a pleasant tone. “You seem to be in a little jam, Turner.”

“I want a lawyer before I say a word,” he said belligerently. “I’ve a right to legal advice.”

“You’ve a right to legal advice when you’re accused of a crime,” I said. “So far you’re only booked for investigation. We first have to establish that a crime’s been committed. This is a preliminary investigation, not an official interrogation. There’s no stenographer present, and you won’t be asked to sign a statement. I just want to know what happened.”

He looked at me sullenly. “You can’t establish that any crime was committed. I didn’t rape that woman.”

“No? What’s your story?”

“She asked for it. I’ll admit the daughter walked in and saw it all. But it wasn’t rape. It was that woman’s doing as much as mine. More even.”

When I merely waited for him to go on, he said indignantly, “She’d been walking around in the nude over there in her apartment for days, trying to tease me into coming over. What the hell did she expect?”

“You’d been spying on her from your own apartment?”

“Spying? Listen, it didn’t take any spying. Their front windows are right across from mine, see, with a forty-foot-wide courtyard in between. I can see into their apartment and they can see into mine, when the shades are up. She knew I was watching her. She was putting on an act.”

“What kind of act?”

He ran fingers through his hair. “A tease act. I don’t have a job yet, see. I just graduated from college in June, and I’ve been taking a little vacation before settling down to work. I’ve been going out a lot nights and sleeping late. I get up about eleven, and every day I glance across the way. And every day, timing it to about the time she figures I get up, Mrs. Haliburton prances into her front room bare naked and starts calisthenics. Only she’s not interested in the exercise. She just wants to give me an eyefull.”

I asked, “How do you know?”

“Because of the way she does it. Never fully looking my way, but standing so she can see me from the corner of her eye. You think I can’t tell when a woman is deliberately putting on a show?”

“You’re an expert?” I asked. “You’ve had lots of experience watching naked women through windows?”

He turned red. “No I haven’t had lots of experience. But you can tell when a woman knows somebody is watching her. And Mrs. Haliburton knew I was watching her.”

“How do you tell?” I asked. “What’s your basis of comparison?”