I brought him in to my boss, Chief Gillespie. He seemed to be pleased with me, and appeared to have no mercy for the suspect, except when I showed him the man’s wallet. He was an officer, and officer in Pasadena California. Boy, was I embarrassed. I didn’t like this man, Virgil was his name. It seemed he thought he was too good for us, not even wincing when the Chief barked out demanding things. After out little conversation with officer Virgil, Gillespie told me to keep an eye on him. I wondered how much longer he would be staying here. That’s when I got the news. Virgil was to stay here and help us with the murder case, of as we heard, Mr Mantoli. I couldn’t understand the Chief, but he was the boss and what he says goes.
August 18. 1962
I know I said I didn’t like Virgil, but it turns out the man isn’t so bad. He respects me, and doesn’t get in the way unless he’s asked to be involved. He didn’t even put any charges on me for placing false arrest on him the other night. Earlier this morning, I actually went to Gillespie and pushed the idea of letting him have breakfast with us. I’d never think I would do something like that for a Negro, but maybe he would speak well of me when he returned to Pasadena. Besides, it was the least I could do, after making him miss his train.Also, I went with Virgil to see if he would want a new police car for the time he was spending here. He just took an old vehicle from my friends repair shop and was pleased. I didn’t think Gillespie treated the man too well, after all, he did tell Virgil to beat it and go home. He’s a little quick tempered for me. Anyways, today was a very important day. I was to go to the Endicott’s where Miss Mantoli appears to be staying. I wasn’t really “into” Italian girls, they always had such large families and would grow up to be fat. But when I arrived with Virgil, I saw Miss Mantoli, or should I say Duena, there against the wall, and I couldn’t be more angry with myself for thinking she was beautiful at a time like this. I stood away in the background, letting Virgil handle things with Mr and Mrs Endicott. I couldn’t help feeling almost excited when I asked if I could escort Duena outside for a little while. She looked gorgeous in the sunset, and I could tell why she enjoyed sitting outside in a back alley like this. It was so unobserved, so screened with the hillside, that you could sit there in utter silence and just watch.
Duena seemed alright with asking about her father’s death, but wasn’t too keen on the idea of a black detective solving the case. I, however told her Virgil was a good man and he could look out for himself. Duena let a tear trickle here and there, but she was quite calm. I wouldn’t even mind if she cried on her shoulders.
When I returned to the house, I saw the look I got from Eric Kaufmann. That man got on my nerves, always thinking he was better than me, and trying to get Duena’s attention away from me. However, I think Duena likes me a little bit better. After I returned to the station, Gillespie insisted I go home and take a rest. I didn’t hesitate. A break would be good for me, after all, I have worked pretty hard on this case. When I arrived at home, I didn’t bother washing up, or changing. I just placed myself right in the bed, and fell asleep immediately.
August 19. 1962
Today was a normal day, until the end. It started when I arrived to the station, and ate some breakfast while talking to Pete. I said a few things about Virgil that I later took back in a joke form. Virgil was an alright guy, he was probably working on the case all day. I agreed with Pete, that a man like Tibbs should have been born white. Later in the day I didn’t bother doing many things, and when it came time for my nightly patrol route, I couldn’t help wondering why Virgil wanted to ride with me, let alone, in the front seat. It also confused me when he wanted me to retrace my route the night of the murder, but I assumed it was just reasons for finding more clues. While in the car, Virgil and I had a nice conversation about the case, school, and previous events. When it came time for me to make a left turn at the train tracks, I stopped. I wouldn’t go that way, especially if Delores Purdy was in the window. Its not that I don’t trust Virgil, I just didn’t want to take any chance of him feeling anything toward a white girl. I felt guilty for changing directions of my route, but it had to be done. I stopped at the diner, and felt a little annoyed by Ralph’s judgment by calling me a “nigger lover”. However I continued on. For all I knew, Ralph was just a pimply faced kid who didn’t know what he was talking about. When I returned to the car, I thought I made it through the night It was then until he asked me why I had changed my route near the end, that I felt clueless and ashamed.