like to take me to the movies some night, if I would like to go.”
“What did you say?”
“I said okay.”
She was a pretty easy pickup for a girl who’d been here for years without making a single male or female friend.
“And what did he say?”
“He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him.”
“The phone number of the Morrow house, you mean?”
“Yes. He wanted to know who he should ask for when he called, and I told him to ask for Violet.”
“Did he call?”
She nodded. “At about ten minutes of eight on the evening of March first.”
The day of the kidnapping.
“What did he say?”
“He asked if I would care to go out with him that evening. I said I would, but that I wouldn’t be ready for a while, as I hadn’t yet finished with serving dinner. Before long, he came to the back door of the pantry of the Morrow house.”
“What did you do?”
“I got my hat and coat and went out. He had another couple with him, who I’d never seen before. The four of us went to a movie house in Englewood and after the show, he drove me back to the Morrow home. It was then, I think, eleven P.M.”
“Have you seen your date since?”
“No. I made a second date with him, for March sixth, but I couldn’t get away from the house. I haven’t spoken to him or seen him, since then.”
Schwarzkopf stepped in and smiled warmly. “You’re doing fine, Miss Sharpe. Just fine. Now, if you can just fill in a few blanks…”
She turned snippy again. “What sort of blanks?”
“Names would be a good start.”
“I told you before! I don’t remember any names.”
“You don’t remember the name of your date? You went for a ride with him on that Sunday afternoon, spent an entire evening with him…”
“I can’t remember.”
“Look,” Welch said, “we know you’re nervous. Just relax and the name will come to you.”
“I am
“What about the other couple?” Schwarzkopf asked. “Can you remember who they were?”
She cocked her head and smiled with tight sarcasm. “No. I can’t remember their names, either.”
“You were out with these people a little over a week ago,” Welch said, “and you can’t remember their goddamn names?”
The steno paused, wondering whether to record “goddamn.”
Violet folded her arms across her chest, and her chin was raised high; but she was trembling. And she didn’t dignify Welch’s badgering with a reply.
“What movie did you see, Violet?” I asked.
Welch and Schwarzkopf looked at me, a little surprised that I’d get into this.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“My name’s Heller. I’m a police officer, like the rest of these men.”
“You have no business prying into my private life. None whatsoever!”
“Take it easy,” I said. “Just tell us what the movie was about. Something, anything, about the movie you saw —the actors in it, anything.”
Red Johnson had passed a similar test with flying colors.
But Violet Sharpe said nothing.
“What was the name of the theater?” I asked.
“It was in Englewood. That’s all I know.”
Welch and Schwarzkopf looked at me and I shrugged. I wasn’t doing any better than they were.
“Thank you, Miss Sharpe,” Schwarzkopf said. And to Welch, he said, “Send her back to Englewood.”
Schwarzkopf left, and I went along, following him back into the bustling garage command post.
“I have half a mind to turn her over to Welch,” Schwarzkopf said, “and let him work his magic on her.”
