Charles Richards stayed the rest of Saturday with his wife Diana in her hospital room. He left for a few minutes to make a phone call in the lobby. He contacted an executive at the movie studio to make sure they notified her boss in Hawaii.
Charles was not about to let her go back to that office. He also asked the studio executive if they would make arrangements with her boss to have their offices moved somewhere else on the lot... somewhere with better security. The executive assured him they would take care of it right away.
And he didn't want to leave her that night. The nurses were very kind and let him stay after visiting hours were over. They told him he could stay until she was able to fall asleep; she was afraid to be alone.
Diana scooted to the side of the bed and asked him to lie beside her and hold her until she fell asleep. He lay mostly on his left side with her tucked against his chest, his arms wrapped around her and her head on his left shoulder and upper arm.
When the night nurse came in to check on her, she found them both fast asleep with her cradled completely in his arms. The nurse sympathized with what they were going through. She left them like that...even though it was against hospital policy.
While she slept, Diana's fear and pain turned to rage. She had a sickening dream about what that bastard, Ed Hood, had done to her. When she awoke, she began to pant heavily.
I could've prevented this from happening, if only...
Charles felt her stirring in his arms. He woke up as she glanced up at him.
She stated angrily, "I wish I'd had my gun with me! I would've put several bullets right in his crotch—then I'd like to have seen him try to rape me! That bastard! I wonder if he's attacked any other women...or was he just fixated on me?"
She stared up at Charles. "Why haven't the police contacted us to say they've found him? How hard could it be to find him?"
"Diana, he probably fled the city right after he attacked you because you know him. I have to wonder why this bastard attacked you so openly knowing you could identify him? It doesn't make any sense! We're lucky he didn't kill you!"
She stared at Charles as the intense anger and hatred she felt burned in her eyes. She growled through her teeth, "I want the bastard dead! I want to make sure he can never do this to me or any other woman ever again!"
His eyes burned with the same anger and hatred. But he said cautiously, "Don't ever make a statement like that to anyone but me! You understand? If anything ends up happening to that bastard, we'll be the first ones they look at. Tell the police you're afraid of him and make yourself look afraid, but don't let them see your anger. Whatever you do, don't let them know your true feelings."
I can't actually hunt him down, but if the opportunity to kill that bastard ever presents itself...
While Diana picked at her breakfast, Charles went to the cafeteria to get a cup of hot tea and a Danish. When he got back to her room, her best friend, Lynda Curtis, was there. She brought Diana some clothes to wear when she left the hospital.
Lynda hugged Charles. "I'm so glad you were able to get back to Diana so fast. I'll drop by your house later and fix dinner for you so you won't have to worry about it. OK?"
"Thanks, Lynda. That'll be great. We'll see you later," he said to her as she left.
The doctor came in around eleven o'clock. He checked Diana's eyes and the lump on her head. He said it looked like she was out of danger and would heal just fine, so he released her. He also advised her to contact her regular gynecologist for follow-up visits to check her internal injuries and make sure they were healing properly.
Charles had to help her dress. She still couldn't move easily due to her soreness. He tried to help her put a bra on, but she couldn't wear it. It was too tight and was hurting her bruises, so she left it off. Luckily, Lynda had thought ahead and brought one of her dresses that wrapped around her and tied at the sides. She only had to slip her arms into it and Charles tied it for her.
They arrived home just after noon. He begged her to let him fix her something to eat. She'd hardly touched her breakfast that morning. She finally relented to try a small bowl or cup of soup. He had just finished heating some on the stove and poured it into a mug for her when they heard the doorbell ring.
Who on earth could that be...
"You stay here and eat your soup. I'll see who that is and get rid of them if it's nothing important." Charles kissed her forehead gently and then went to the front door.
It was a couple of plain-clothes L.A.P.D. detectives.
This might be important...
The officers identified themselves as Detectives Jerry Olson and Jonathan North.
North asked, "Are you Special Agent Charles Richards of the FBI?"
Charles affirmed that he was by showing them his ID and badge. He let them in as he asked, "What's the purpose of this visit?"
The two detectives looked at each other uncomfortably.
Detective North asked, "Agent Richards, how long have you and your wife been married?"
"Three months. Why? And call me Mr. Richards. I'm not on duty right now."
North continued, "Certainly, Mr. Richards. And just how much do you know about your wife's previous life before you met her?"
"As much as I need to know. Why?" His eyes narrowed.
You better not bring up anything that doesn't specifically have to do with that bastard...
The two detectives glanced at each other again. Then Detective North asked, "Are you aware that your wife has a history for several years of picking up men in bars and, apparently, having one-night stands with them?"
You bastard...
Anger flashed in his eyes. "My wife told me all about her past when we got married. What does that have to do with her getting beaten black and blue and then raped by some man that she refused to have sex with over a year ago? And why are you investigating my wife when you should be looking for the perp?"
Detective North continued, "Mr. Richards, do you have any idea how difficult it would be to get rape charges to stand against this man if it ends up going to trial and your wife's past history is revealed in court? We've had numerous cases like this that the D.A.'s office has refused to prosecute over the years when it was revealed that the victims had a history of casual flings or one night stands."
I know it's not fair, but I'm not the D.A.! We're just doing our jobs...
"And we weren't investigating your wife, we were following leads on some of the perp's known hangouts. Apparently, he's been following your wife for quite some time. Every bar and club we visited last night and showed the perp's photo around didn't give us many leads. But when we flashed a photo of your wife, she was instantly recognized by men who said they'd seen her only once or twice and that she left with a man each time she was there."
Charles was staring at them angrily. He replied heatedly, "Again...what difference does all this make in finding the man who raped my wife?" his voice rising in volume.
I'm warning you...
Damn it...I can't help you! It's not my decision...
North continued, frustrated. "Mr. Richards...how can we continue to waste the Department's valuable time looking for a man who will likely get out of the charges because he'll have plenty of witnesses and evidence to back up his claim that your wife asked him for sex?"
Oh, you sick bastard... Just stand there and let him hit you because you deserve it...
That's IT...
Charles drew back his right shoulder and was about to deck Detective North—until he heard a whimper behind him. He spun around. Diana was standing at the kitchen door; she'd heard the detective's last statement. There were tears in her eyes; her right hand was on her mouth and her left arm was clutching her stomach.
Charles moved to her quickly and put his arms around her. Then he walked her over to where the detectives were standing. He moved behind her and put his arms around her again.
He said softly next to her ear, "I'm not doing this to shame you, my love, but these bastards need to see what it is they think you asked for!" He untied the sides of her dress and pulled it open.
She turned the right side of her face toward the detectives and closed her eyes. She cried softly from embarrassment.
The detectives frowned. Then they stared intently. Their eyes traveled down her body to where Charles pushed her panties low enough so they could see the worst bruising. Then he closed her dress, turned her around and hugged her against him.
He stared menacingly at Detective North. "That's only what you can see on the outside of her body!"
He looked at both men with deadly seriousness. "Now...are you two still going to stand there and try to tell me that my wife asked that bastard for sex? And what kind of message are you sending to any other would-be rapists out there? That the L.A.P.D. and the D.A.'s office are declaring open season for rapists on women who've been known to sleep around?!! Now get out of here! I don't want to hear from anyone else in your department unless it's to tell us that you've found that bastard or at least know where he is!"
The detectives showed themselves out.
Charles held Diana against him as she sobbed softly. He soothed her as calmly as he could. "Shhhh... it's alright, my love. We'll get through this. And I promise you, that bastard will pay...one way or the other...he'll pay for what he did to you!"
As the detectives walked back to their car, Jerry Olson, the older one at 45, who hadn't said anything, finally spoke up.
"I really feel sorry for them. I have a sister who had a tendency to dally with men because she couldn't find the right man to love. She finally did and, luckily, nothing like this ever happened to bring her past back to haunt her. Not all women who use men like most men use women do it because they're just 'bad girls.' That woman didn't deserve this and you damn well know it! That was a cruel thing to say! And if I ever hear you say anything like that again, I'll belt you in the mouth!"
Jonathan North, who was 38 but felt more like 58, looked at him and sighed wearily.
"I know. It's just so frustrating that there's such a double standard applied to women. And this is 1956! Men who fool around are just 'playing the field!' But the women who 'play the field' with them are considered sluts. It's a tragedy that those two finally found each other and something like this happened. If we ever do find the perp, I wouldn't blame Richards if he goes after the bastard if he walks. If I was lucky enough to find a woman like her, I'd go after anyone who attacked her, too!"
Jonathan North sighed heavily as he got into the car.
If only I could find a woman like her...
Fate was about to step in again...
**********
Sunday afternoon, Barbara Adams came to see her good friend Diana. She couldn't go to the hospital. She'd had an intense aversion to hospitals ever since her husband was killed—Diana understood that.
She told Barbara what one of the detectives had said.
She threw a fit. "WHAT?! How dare he say something like that! He's a detective...it's not his job to decide which cases warrant investigating! Charles, how could you let him get away with saying something like that about your own wife?!! Why didn't you deck that jerk?!!"
