Richard Van Dorne - Ravished wife

"Yes," she said aloud, "Maybe there is some hope for us. I'm willing, Sammy, if you are."

"Oh, wow," he exclaimed. "You'd better believe that I'm ready."

Jeff looked at the couple on the bed and smiled. Jeff Lee is on the winning side, now he thought. I guess that can make a new man out of you.

"Well, I guess that makes things a little clearer for you two," he said. "But I'd better fill you in on the rest. My campaign to jail Wade Jackson went into effect today. When the evening edition of the paper comes out, everyone will see it in print. I'll have to mail you a copy, though, because I want you out of town before the story hits the streets. Wade'll be in jail when you come back to town to testify, so please don't worry."

Sammy and Paula grinned at the good news. Maybe they would get a fresh start after all. They could easily begin by wiping the slate clean when they testified as state witnesses in court.

"… So," Jeff continued, "Pack your bags and a car will pick you up at three."

"Jeff," Sammy broke in, his voice suddenly solemn. "I've got some bad news for you."

The editor said nothing, but waited for the boy to speak.

"The girl you got the information from, Carmen…" he paused. "She was found dead in her apartment about an hour ago. One of the other girls called Paula and told her."

"Carmen," Jeff said reflectively. "How did it happen?"

"She was shot through the head," Paula told him. "The police don't have any idea who did it, but I do. All you have to do is tell the police to pick up Carl Pearson and they'll have their killer."

"I'll do that," Jeff said. "I'll be sure to."

"Extra! Extra!" Jeff heard a paperboy yelling on the street corner. "Read all about it! Local millionaire exposed as arch-criminal! Extra! Extra!"

Well, Jeff thought to himself. The convention's over and the story's out; now all I have to do is wait.

Jeff didn't have to wait for very long. Twenty minutes later three members of one of Miami's commissions entered his office. They were older men, all three in their sixties, and all three were very wealthy, prominent citizens. Jeff knew why they had come, and wasn't surprised when the first one said: "Lee, you've got to retract that story!"

"Go fly a kite," was his reply.

"Now, listen," the second commissioner said, his tone more soothing. "What you've written about Wade Jackson is probably a misconception. If you really looked at the facts, you'd find that you've made a mistake."

"No, gentlemen, I have not made a mistake. I believe that you've made the mistake. Your first error was to know Wade Jackson, your second was to play puppet for him, and your third was to come storming into my office in support of him.

"This town or any other town doesn't need men like Jackson, no matter what your economics tell you. Wade Jackson is a despicable man, beneath contempt. His kind of corruption has ruined the lives of thousands of people in the United States and all over the world. He runs his empire with blackmail and brute force. But he, and all the others like him, will pay someday. I plan to see that Wade Jackson pays now!"

The three men stood silent for a moment, each of them trying to understand what Jeff had said. Sure, there was truth in what he said about corruption, they thought, but not about Wade.

"Listen," the second man said. "Wade Jackson pays enough taxes every year to buy and sell your newspaper. He's helped the city of Miami build playgrounds, recreation areas, churches, and too many things to mention here."

"Money's not the answer," Jeff retorted. "People are what count. Just because Wade helps the community or the local churches doesn't mean he's a good man. Think of all the people, little people, who don't have the money. I'll bet you any amount of money that a thousand Wade Jackson's could not match the charity of heart that any one of them has.

"No, gentlemen, Wade Jackson is finished in Miami, and anywhere else. He'll spend the rest of his life behind bars."

The first man spoke: "Wade's going to sue, you know. He'll rock this newspaper right into the Gulf, by the time he's finished with you. You'll have to publish a retraction, or face complete ruin."

"He can do anything he pleases," Jeff said, "… from a jail cell."

"What do you mean?"

"Wade Jackson is in the maximum security ward at the city jail."

"Why, hell! He'll be out on bail in an hour," one of them said.

"The charge is rape. He won't get out."

"Rape! That's incredible… why that's impossible," the second man nearly yelled.

"It's not incredible at all. I'm an eyewitness, and I'll see to it that he spends the rest of his life in jail for that, if nothing else."

Suddenly the phone rang, breaking the silence that had swept the room after Jeff's speech.

"Good day, gentlemen," he said and turned his back to answer the phone.

"Yeah, Charley," Jeff said to his assistant editor. "I hope you've got those sworn affidavits from Sammy and Paula ready for today's edition."

"I do, Jeff, but it won't make any difference."

"Why not?"

"Well," Charley said, hesitating. "The D.A.'s office showed them to Jackson this morning about ten o'clock. When the guard went back to the cell to take him his dinner he found Jackson dead on the floor. He cut his wrists."

Jeff paused for a moment.

"O.K., Charley, run an obituary."

Jeff Lee hung up the phone and picked up his pipe. Wade Jackson had taken the coward's way out, and saved the state a lot of money. But Jeff's job wouldn't be over for a long time. Wherever a Wade Jackson lives, thriving off the misfortune of others, there will always be a job for men like Jeff Lee. Within a week someone will have taken Wade's place in Miami and Jeff will nave to start another investigation… but not until after his vacation… a long one with his new found Pamela…