Razzamatazz

last Monday. The churches, the schools, and the members and friends of the local Union extended a most cordial welcome to the delegates. The sincerity of this welcome was proven on every hand by the open churches, the tasteful decorations, the generous hospitality, and the beautiful music.

NINETEEN

As planned, the women arrived before Hallock left for the station. There were four. Julia Dorman was the youngest at twenty-nine. Divorced for a year, she was tall, angular, and blond. At fifteen she'd had a botched abortion in the back room of a bar and now couldn't have children. Hallock thought it accounted for the downward turn of Julia's mouth.

Anne Hulse was the oldest of the five. Born in Poland, she immigrated to America at nineteen, married Bob Hulse at twenty, and lived in New York City most of her married life, while summering in Seaville. Three years before, they'd moved to Seaville full-time. Anne's sweet smile and tender gaze gave her a beatific look. Her only child was married to a black man. Although Anne was far from being racist, she admitted that Mary's life had been made difficult because of the interracial marriage.

Florence Barker was middle-aged. Her delicate features were framed by copper-colored hair, and when she smiled she was almost pretty. But she seldom smiled; her mother-in-law lived with Florence and her husband, and the situation was barely tolerable.

Sandy Roach, thirty-seven, married to a science teacher at Seaville High, was like the group mascot. She was small and feisty and always urging the women on to one more cause, one more meeting. Hallock thought of her as a perennial cheerleader, with her short, yellow curly hair, pink cheeks, cherry-red mouth. Her indefatigable nature made her a champion of more causes than any of the others. She would be invaluable in this cause.

In fact, they all would. Hallock was pleased that Fran had been able to enlist these particular women and had told her so the night before.

Four new telephone lines had been installed. The phones were all touch-tone, all black.

Hallock stood near the door of the living room watching the women settling themselves, taking from their purses cigarettes, cough drops, tissues, combs. Then he cleared his throat.

'First of all, I want to thank you for helping us out. I know you're all busy gals, and sparing me this time is really appreciated.' He thought he sounded stupid. He'd never been good with bunches of women, so why'd he expect this to be any different? 'I guess Fran's told you a little bit about what we're going to try and do.'

'She gave us a sketchy idea,' Sandy said.

Julia said, 'Is it true you don't have a clue to the identity of this killer, Chief?'

Hallock bit the inside of his cheek. How could he pretend he had an idea, a suspect, when he was asking them to help him in this way? 'That's right, Julia. Hate to admit it, but it's the truth. That's why I need you gals so badly.'

'Do you think you could stop calling us gals, Waldo?' Julia said tersely.

'Huh?'

'Gals. We don't like being called gals.'

'Why not?' he asked innocently.

Julia waved a dismissive hand in his direction. 'It's too long to go into now.' She turned to Fran. 'Haven't you taught him any better?'

'Let's get on with it, okay?' Fran said, keeping her voice as even as she could.

'Fine by me,' Julia responded.

Hallock continued to gnaw at his cheek. This was worse than addressing the Rotary. 'Sorry if I offended.'

Anne said, 'Waldo, please go on. We wish to hear what you have to say.'

He smiled at her, feeling a little better. 'As you probably know each victim has been found with an A…' Having to say it aloud to these women made him feel really lousy. 'Found with an A cut into their-bodies.'

Florence said, 'How'd you know it was an A?'

'It looked like one. We think this A is a very important clue. It could be the killer's initial. But we don't know if it's the first or the last initial.'

'Or if it's an initial at all,' Julia put in.

'That's right,' he mumbled.

'So,' she said, 'to coin a phrase, we're shooting in the dark.'

'Yes.'

'You know, Julia,' Sandy said, 'you don't have to do this if you don't want to.'

'I just want to know the facts, that's all. Is it so terrible to get the lay of the land, so to speak?'

'Julia's right. I want you to know everything. And I intend to tell you everything in due time,' he said pointedly. 'I have no idea if this will work, but I want to try it.' From a side table, he picked up five copies of the Yellow Book, the community directory, and passed one out to each of them. 'There are about one hundred ninety- two pages that we have to cover in here. The last names starting with A's will be easy. One of you can just go through with a yellow marker.' He got these from the drawer of the table. 'Highlight everything that isn't a store or business of some kind.

'That leaves twenty-five letters, five for each of you. You can divide them up any way you want. Now, it's not just the first initial that's important. A middle initial is just as good.'

'Because some people are called by their middle name even though they list their first name in the book. Right, Waldo?' said Sandy.

'That's right,' he smiled. He took Fran's book, flipped it open, ran a finger down a page. 'See, like this: Goodridge, Robert A.'

'Do we run the marker over those?' Anne asked.

'Yes. There are about twenty-five thousand names you'll have to go through, five thousand each. Don't rush it. The one you miss could be the one we want most.'

'I don't understand,' Julia said obstinately. 'What good is this going to do?'

'In a couple of hours I'll be back and tell you the rest,' he stalled. He was meeting with Maguire in fifteen minutes to work on the questionnaire. 'So, are there any more questions?' He prayed there weren't, avoiding Julia's eyes.

Florence said, 'Are we going to be calling these people, the ones we're underlining?'

'What do you think all these phones are for, Florrie?' Julia said.

'I guess,' she said meekly.

Hallock felt sorry for Florence. 'Later on you'll be calling the people you've underlined, yes.'

'What will we say to them?' Sandy asked.

'That's what I'm going to tell you later. Okay, ga-ladies, I-'

'Just as bad, Waldo,' Julia interrupted.

'Oh, Julia,' Anne said, 'don't.'

Julia said, 'He needs his consciousness raised.'

'I'll walk you out,' Fran said.

'Thanks, all,' he said, playing it safe. 'See you later.' On the front stoop Hallock said through his teeth, 'What the hell am I supposed to call them?'

“Women.”

'Women?'

She nodded.

'I'm supposed to say, thank you, women?”

'Forget it, hon'.'

'Thank you, women,' he said again, puzzled.

'Thanks, all, was just super, Waldo.'

'I think it's stupid,' he sulked. “Thank you, women.'

'Look, I don't want to start World War Three, but you'd say, thank you, men, wouldn't you?'

'It's different.'