Dear Lucile Bremer went to Hedda’s house to retrieve clothes for Hedda to wear to the courthouse. A black skirt with a tailored gray suit coat, and, to Hedda’s relief, a hat with a heavy black veil are laid out on the narrow bed.
Barefoot and wearing only her slip, Hedda shivers in the drafty cell. She makes no move for the clothes. She cannot.
The jail matron, Mrs. Brooks, enters her cell.
“We have to get you dressed, Miss Burgemeister. You do not want to miss this hearing. It’s your key to get out of this place. To go home where you can rest undisturbed and gain your strength back.”
“I understand,” says Sheriff Tobin as he claps Mr. K on the back, “you had a wild adventure in Germany.”
“Much more than he anticipated,” says the Colonel. “Bullets riddling the automobile you’re driving does not fit any description of a relaxing vacation.”
Mr. K shakes his head. “We couldn’t set sail from Bremen, so we needed to cross into the Netherlands. There was a long line of automobiles at the border crossing, with little movement forward. Numerous automobiles were being turned back.”
“And you know how patient Otto is.” The Colonel winks at the Sheriff.