he said.
“Yes, sir?”
“Mrs. Belote took in a boarder a few months after her husband died, to help with the bills, I expect. Fellow’s name is Cahill. We interviewed him. Took work at the shipyard after he left the navy. The Mrs. and the girls liked to wear his uniform blouse and scarf around the house. Seems like a nice enough fellow. Says he overheard the Mrs. giving the colored girl the what-for over something had gone missing. Said the Mrs. could lay it on pretty hot when she wanted to. Bet that little woman didn’t weigh ninety pounds.”
“Ever want you a jar full of piss and vinegar, just find you a small woman of a certain age, ain’t that right, V?” Sheriff Curtis said. Dr. Vanderslice smiled and nodded.
“Thank you, sir,” I said. “I’ll follow up on that.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a good job, son.”
“Sheriff Curtis, would it be all right if I saw the prisoner?” I set my cup on the floor by the stove.
“Sure, head on back, Charlie.” He stood and picked up the keys hanging next to the lock of the steel door leading back to the jail. He unlocked the door and swung it open.
“I expect she’s about finished her breakfast,” he said.
The floor of the jail was stone and the air was cold. Virginia Christian sat huddled in a blanket on a spring cot behind the bars of her cell. Her eyes were open, downcast. She sat so still I didn’t think she had heard me enter. She was staring at the stone wall beyond the bars. I cleared my throat.
“Virginia Christian?”
She raised her eyes. The dim light obscured her face. I could not make out the features. “Daddy gone come, fetch me out of here?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think so. My name’s Charlie Mears.”
“Why ain’t my daddy gone come?” She blinked once and leaned forward. I could see her cheek now. Her hair was flattened on one side from lying on the cot. On the floor by the cot was a tray and cup. Nothing on the tray had been touched.
“Well,” I said. “Mrs. Belote is dead.”
“Humph,” she said. She put her hand to her cheek. It glistened in the light. She shook her head slowly. “I knowed I never should gone back. I told my momma so, too.”
“It’s best not to talk,” I said. “Not to anybody but your lawyer.”
“I ain’t been in jail before,” she said. “I ain’t got no lawyer.”
“Your father’s getting you one,” I said.
“How come you know so much?” she said. “Maybe I ought not talk to you neither.”
“I work at the newspaper, I reckon is how I know.”
She studied my face. “You ain’t nothing but a boy,” she said. “I can tell a white boy’s age, good as I can tell a colored’s. Bet you eighteen years old.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“Told you,” she said.
“Well,” I said, “I’d better get back out front.” She sprang up and put a hand on the bars. The coils on the cot hummed.
“You see my daddy, you tell him come fetch me. I’m lonesome. Momma don’t like it when I ain’t home.”
“If I do see your father, I’ll tell him. I promise.”
She raised her other hand to the bars.
“What you say your name is?”
“Charlie.” I heard keys jangling.
“Charlie?” Sheriff Curtis called. “Come on out. Couple reporters heading up the street. They better not see, cause I ain’t gone let them back there with the girl.”
“They calls me Virgie,” she said.
I heard the tumblers turn in the lock. “Charlie, you coming?” Sheriff Curtis called.
As the sheriff locked the jail door behind me, Constable J. D. Hicks came in the front door of the office. He was a big man with thick hands. The constable guarded the jail and served as bailiff during court sessions.
“Dr. V expects to call about a dozen witnesses,” Sheriff Curtis said. “Let’s move this table over.” The sheriff and the constable moved a long table from against the wall out to the middle of the office.
“I’ll fetch some chairs from the courthouse,” Constable Hicks said. “Boys, do you mind?”
The five jurors followed the constable out the door. Newsmen started to file in.
“You fellers wait till we get things set up,” the sheriff said. “Space is tight. Gone have to stand in the back, anyway.”
I stepped outside with the others and lit a cigarette.
“Getting a poker game up this evening, Charlie,” Pace said. “You interested?”
An older reporter next to Pace chuckled.
“Oh, that’s right,” Pace said. “That’d be against your high morals, wouldn’t it, Charlie? Coroner ain’t giving you any preferential treatment, is he? You being his pious little college boy and all?”
I could feel my face reddening. I held the cigarette in my lips and pulled out my handkerchief. I wiped my glasses and wrapped the frames back behind my ears. I saw the jurors coming out of the courthouse, each man carrying a chair under each arm. I trotted across the square into the courthouse and picked up a couple of chairs, too. Pace and the other newsmen followed. They each grabbed chairs. I held the door for Pace and the constable.
“That ought to do it, Charlie,” the constable said. “Just pull that door to.”
Witnesses began to arrive about 9:30. Poindexter was among the first to show up. He looked nervous. The sheriff offered him a chair but Poindexter refused and paced the back of the room. I smiled at him when he looked my way but he did not smile back. He had worn a big winter coat and he did not remove it, even though the room was warm. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Finally the sheriff had enough and told him to sit down. Poindexter complied. Then he stood up again, shucked off the big coat, and sat back down, piling the coat on his lap.
Dr. Vanderslice greeted the witnesses as they entered and showed each one to a seat. I recognized Mrs. Stewart, who lived upstairs at the C&O depot with her husband, Gus, the station manager. Other women I remembered seeing standing in front of the victim’s house came in. The only person of color who entered was a woman wearing an apron and bandanna. A trim man with wavy brown hair and a thick moustache entered. Dr. Vanderslice nodded to him as he took a seat. The constable opened the stove firebox and jabbed at the coals with a poker. He added an armload of wood, shut the firebox, and turned down the draft. Then a small, pale woman entered the jail, the girl I recognized as Harriet flanking her on one side, and the younger girl, Sadie, on the other. Everyone in the office stood, some leaning
