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Show 91 out of nowhere she resented them deeply. Yet the older man who asked the questions had a face as thin and wrinkled as if dried by a Texas sun, his eyes as blue as her father's. He seemed to sense her passion to be safe, his voice kindly paternal, and she answered his questions with a childlike earnestness. But she really had no idea of her assailant's features nor of his dress-except that he hadn't worn a hat. But she had hardly seen his face. And always she was most aware of the younger policeman, who watched her so coldly that she began to apologize for not being able better to answer the questions. And raised imploring eyes to the older man; his face was patient, attentive, kind: "It was so dark and happened so fast I just couldn't see," she insisted. But more and more the younger policeman dominated her, a man hardly older than herself, heavy jaw, close-scraped but dark shadow of beard. She knew the defiant and aggressive stance, knew the cold contempt on his face for his surroundings, the University of Chicago. "Nothing peculiar?" asked the older man. "How about scars or anything? Or was he white or colored?" He looked up from his notepad. "Lots of colored been moving into the area; we been getting lots of complaints." A faintness rose in her and she waited until it subsided, then shook lier head. "I just didn't notice." "She didn't notice," said the younger man, looking at his partner. "Better put down white then, Ed," he said, and turned his eyes upon her in a strange heavy knowing look: "Oh man, she'd of noticed all right if he'd been a jig." She felt the surge of hatred for him, and yet at the same time, as she watched him looking her over, watched him measuring her legs, weighing her breasts, shrewdly appraising what the rapist had been after, she felt an erotic start in her belly. Surprised, appalled, she glanced down and sat rigid for the remainder of the interrogation. She could not believe that she was caught up in something so poisonous and so when she stepped outside the door she was sharply shocked again at the squad car sitting in the yellow zone, its red light pulsing like a slashed artery. While she watched the policemen with a flashlight searching the area where she had hit the man, watched them searching too for her book, gone, apparently carried off by her assailant, she was only holding herself together until she could get home to Milt. Milt would make everything all right. dilemma 171 |