“Or he calls her,” Jesse said.
“I feel sort of bad for him, in a strange way,” Molly said.
“I know,” Jesse said.
“And his wife,” Molly said.
“Yeah.”
“I guess we need to talk with her again,” Molly said.
“We do,” Jesse said.
Molly smiled, looking at the letter.
“And the dance continues,” she said.
64
JESSE AND Molly met the Free Swingers in the spacious atrium of a big gray shingled house that faced the ocean on Paradise Neck. Jesse was the only man in the room. No husbands attended. Hannah Wechsler was there. Kimberly Clark was not. Jesse stood in the center of the long room, with a view of the ocean at his back. Molly sat on a slipper rocker near him.
Everyone else gathered in an extended semicircle facing him.
“Thank you for coming,” Jesse said. “Thanks to Mrs. Stevens for allowing us the use of her house.”
No one said anything.
“I am not interested as a police chief or a man in the non-criminal private behavior of con-senting adults,” Jesse said. “But I am looking for a criminal, and you are in a unique position to help me.”
They all sat silently. Neatly dressed. A lot of flowered prints. He could have been address-ing a group of den mothers, Jesse thought.
“I know you’ve heard of the Night Hawk. His behavior is essentially voyeuristic. Look but don’t touch, so to speak.”
“What about that school principal?” a woman asked.
Her voice was hoarse. She cleared it after she spoke.
“We think that may be a different person,” Jesse said.
“A copycat?” the woman said.
“Maybe,” Jesse said. “But it occurred to me that the Night Hawk might be attracted to a group such as yours. So it would help if you could tell me if there’s anyone you’ve encountered in the activities of your group that looks but doesn’t touch.”
Everyone looked at Jesse without speaking. Jesse waited.
“That’s not allowed,” a woman said finally.
“Would you know?” Jesse said. “Would you always know who was doing what with whom?”
Again there was silence. Then several of the women began to shake their heads.
“You wouldn’t,” Jesse said.
The woman who had cleared her throat cleared it again and then said, “No.”
“Okay,” Jesse said. “Officer Crane is going to hand out some index cards and pencils. I’d like each of you to list the name of any man with whom you’ve had experience who has watched and nothing else.”
“You think this guy is in our group?” one of the women asked.
“Yes,” Jesse said.
“Who do you think he is?”
“Can’t say.”
“Why do you think so,” the woman said. “Because we are a little unconventional, maybe?”
She was a big dark-haired woman with a long braid in her hair.
“We have some evidence,” Jesse said.
“What do you think of what we do,” the woman with the braid said to Jesse.
“I think it’s legal,” Jesse said.
“Would you do it?” the woman said.
Jesse was quiet, thinking about it.
“No,” he said after a moment. “Probably not.”
“What a waste,” the woman with the hoarse voice said.
All the women laughed, including Molly.
“Do we have to sign the card?” a woman asked.
“No,” Jesse said. “And if there is no one in your experience, just don’t write on the card.”
Molly handed out cards and pencils.
A woman wearing large tinted glasses raised her hand.
