“We’ve asked them to wait in the auditorium,” Jesse said. “And we’ll ask their daughters to join them there.”
“My goodness,” Mrs. Ingersoll said.
“Tell me about this situation,” Jesse said.
Mrs. Ingersoll was sitting behind her big desk. The desktop was immaculately empty.
“Situation? Chief Stone, I fear that it overstates things to call it a situation.”
“Tell me something,” Jesse said.
“I have very little to tell,” Mrs. Ingersoll said. “I’m not angry at these parents. They are concerned with their children’s well-being, as am I.”
Jesse waited. Mrs. Ingersoll smiled at him. Jesse waited. Mrs. Ingersoll smiled.
“The girls say you picked up their skirts and checked their underwear.”
Mrs. Ingersoll continued to smile.
“Did you?” Jesse said.
Still smiling, Mrs. Ingersoll leaned forward and folded her hands on her desk.
“I have given twenty years of my life to this school,” she said, “the last five as principal.
Most people don’t like the principal. Being police chief, you may understand. The students think I’m here to discipline them. The teachers think I am here to order them about. Actually, of course, I am here to see to the well-being of the children.”
Jesse nodded slowly. When he spoke his voice showed no sign of impatience.
“Did you look at their underwear, Mrs. Ingersoll?”
“I have done nothing illegal,” she said brightly.
“Actually,” Jesse said, “that’s not your call, Mrs. Ingersoll.”
Her eyes were big and bright. Her smile lingered.
“It’s not?”
“You’ve been accused of an action,” Jesse said pleasantly, “which, depending on the zeal of the prosecutor, the skill of the defense, and the political inclinations of the judge, might or might not be deemed a crime.”
“Oh, Jesse,” she said. “That’s absurd.”
“Did you check their undies, Betsy?” Jesse said.
She continued to smile. Her eyes continued to sparkle. But she didn’t speak.
“Would you care to come down to the auditorium with me and thrash this out with the kids and their parents?” Jesse said. “Try to keep this from turning into a hairball?”
She remained cheerfully motionless for a moment. Then she shook her head.
“Do you know who my husband is, Jesse?” she said.
“I do,” he said.
“Well, I’m going to call him now,” she said. “And I’d like you to leave my office, please.”
Jesse glanced at Molly. Molly’s lips were whistling silently as she stood studying the view from the window behind Mrs. Ingersoll. He looked back at Mrs. Ingersoll.
Then he said, “Come on, Moll, let’s go talk to the girls.”
As they left the office, Mrs. Ingersoll picked up the phone and began to dial.
3
“I’D LIKE to drag her down to the station and strip-search her,” Molly said. “Give her a little taste.”
Jesse smiled.
“That option remains available, Moll,” Jesse said. “But we probably need to talk to the victims first.”
“I know,” Molly said, “I know. But if it were one of my kids . . .”
The auditorium was subdued, as if the parents and the children were a little frightened by the circumstance they’d created. It was a small auditorium. Jesse sat on the lip of the stage.
“I’m Jesse Stone,” he said. “I’m the chief of police. We can do this several ways. I can talk to you all, together, right here. Officer Molly Crane and I can talk to the girls separately, alone, or separately with a parent”?he grinned at the scatter of fathers?“or parents.”
A hard-faced woman with brittle blond hair and a dark tan sat next to her daughter in the front row. She put up her hand. Jesse nodded at her.
“What does Ingersoll have to say?” she asked.
“Mrs. Ingersoll has neither affirmed nor denied anything,” Jesse said. “So I thought I’d ask you.”
The parents and children sat still in the auditorium. Eddie Cox and Suit leaned against the wall. Molly stood beside Jesse, resting her hips against the stage.
“Would one of the girls who were, ah, examined, like to tell us about it?” Jesse said.
The daughter of the brittle blonde looked down and didn’t say anything. Her mother poked her. She continued to look down and shake her head.
