with a crumpled handkerchief. Before he began to read again he went out to the toilet, washed his face and drank a glass of water.
The second report from Kafka was not as long as the first. It also had a rather different tone.
'Examination of Mary Jane Peterson held at Police Headquarters, Lincoln, Nebraska, October 10, 1964. Examining Officer: Detective Lieutenant Kafka. Witness to the Examination: Sergeant Romney.
ROMNEY: This is Mary Jane Peterson. She is single, twenty-eight years old, and lives at 62 South Street. Employed at the Community Library here in Lincoln.
KAFKA: Have a seat, Miss Peterson.
PETERSON: Thank you. What's this all about?
K: Just a few questions.
P: About Roseanna McGraw?
K: That's right.
P: I don't know any more than what I've already said. I received a postcard from her. That's all. Have you brought me here from my work just to hear me say it again?
K: Were you and Miss McGraw friends?
P: Yes, of course.
K: Did you live together before Miss McGraw took her own apartment?
P: Yes, for fourteen months. She came here from Denver and had no place to go. I let her live with me.
K: Did you share the expenses for the apartment?
P: Naturally.
K: When did you separate?
P: More than two years ago. It was sometime during the spring of 1962.
K: But you continued to see one another?
P: We met every day at the library.
K: Did you also see each other in the evening?
P: Not very often. We saw enough of each other during working hours.
K: What did you think of Miss McGraw's character?
P:
K: Jack, take over here. I'll be right back.
R: Lieutenant Kafka asked you what you thought of Miss McGraw's character?
P: I heard him and I answered:
That's Latin and means 'One shouldn't speak ill of the dead.'
R: The question was this: what was her character like?
P: You can ask someone else about that. May I go now?
R: Just try and you'll see.
P: You're a dope. Has anyone ever told you that?
R: If I were in your shoes, God forbid, I'd be pretty careful about talking like that.
P: Why?
R: Maybe because I don't like it.
P: Ha!
R: What was her character like?
P: I think you had better ask someone else about that, you idiot.
K: That's fine, Jack. Now, Miss Peterson?
P: Yes, what is it?
K: Why did you and Miss McGraw separate?
P: We were crowded. Anyway, I can't see that it's any business of yours.
K: You were good friends, weren't you?
P: Yes, of course.
K: I have a report from the police in the third district from the record on April 8, 1962. At ten past two in the morning several tenants in the building at 62 South Street complained of screaming, loud arguments and continuous noise from an apartment on the fourth floor. When police officers Flynn and Richardson got there ten minutes later they were not let into the apartment and had to get the superintendent to open the door with a pass key. You and Miss McGraw were found in the apartment. Miss McGraw had on bathrobe, and you were dressed in high-heeled shoes and what Flynn described as a white cocktail dress. Miss McGraw was bleeding from a scratch on her forehead. The room was disorderly. Neither of you would make a complaint, and order was restored—at least that's what it says here—and the policemen left the apartment.
P: What do you mean by bringing that thing up?
K: The next day Miss McGraw moved to a hotel, and one week later found her own apartment a few blocks up the same street.
P: I'm asking you again. What do you mean by bringing up that old scandal story? As if I haven't had enough unpleasantness already.
K: I am trying to convince you of the necessity of answering our questions. It's also a good idea to tell the truth.
P: Okay, I threw her out. Why not? It was my apartment.
K: Why did you throw her out, as you put it?
P: What difference does that make today? Who would be interested in a three year old fight between two girlfriends?
K: Anything that has to do with Roseanna McGraw is of interest just now. It seems—as you see in the papers—that there's not much to write about her.
P: Do you mean to say that you can blow up this story for the newspapers if you want to?
K: This report is a public document.
P: In that case isn't it odd that they haven't already gotten hold of it.
K: That's partly because Sergeant Romney got hold of it first. The minute he sends it back to the central archives anyone is free to take any part of it.
P: And if he doesn't send it back?
K: Then it's a different story.
P: Will the record of this examination also be available to the public?
K: No.
P: Can I depend on that?
K: Yes.
P: Okay, what do you want to know? Hurry up, though, so I can get out of here before I become hysterical.
K: Why did you force Miss McGraw to leave your apartment?
P: Because she embarrassed me.
K: In what way?
P: Roseanna was trash. She was in heat like a bitch. And I said it to her face.
K: What did she answer to that?
P: My dear Lieutenant, Roseanna didn't answer such commonplace statements. She held herself above them. Just lay naked on the bed as usual and read some philosopher. And then she would look at me. Large-eyed, uncomprehending and indulgent.
K: Was she very temperamental?
P: She had no temperament at all.
K: What was the direct cause of your sudden breakup?
P: You can try to figure that one but yourself. Even you ought to have enough imagination for that.
K: A man?
P: A slob she wanted to sleep with while I sat and waited for him in some hole about thirty miles from here. He had misunderstood in some way—he was pretty dumb too—and thought that he was to pick me up at home. When he got there I'd already left. Roseanna was home, naturally. She was always home. And so whatever
