Then she tried to tell them how he taught English and Latin to her. And how he tutored students in Greek and even taught Bible studies on his own time.
The lawmen at this time didn’t know about all the money storage and the rest of it. Nor did they know that Bill Bradfield and Shelly were going to get married in a French cathedral and declaim from “The Wanderer” as they followed the trail of the Mycenaeans and their thousand black ships.
Matt Mullin had some compassion for the young woman, but Joe VanNort did not.
After they returned, Joe VanNort said, “The FBI maybe wants to pay her tuition to Notre Dame. I wanna see her graduate through a correspondence course. In state prison.”
The federal grand jury happened to be in session in Philadelphia. The Reinert task force used the powers of this grand jury to subpoena phone records, credit card information and bank records, to go deeper into the affairs of William Bradfield and his friends. And of Jay C. Smith, as well.
Vince Valaitis couldn’t wait to talk publicly about the terrible dilemma that he and his friends found themselves in. Prior to volunteering his testimony to the grand jury, Vince talked to reporters again.
“Bill Bradfield refuses to be interviewed,” Vince told them, “because he fears no one will believe him. And because he has a higher moral motivation. He doesn’t care about this world at all. He cares about his soul and another world. I’ve prayed a rosary with Bill and he wants to become a Catholic. I see Bill in an entirely different way than you do.”
He told the grand jury his strange story and then he volunteered what he thought might set the record straight for all of them:
“In the news it says ‘this clique of teachers.’ It sounds like we’re some kind of insidious group. This is something that evolved slowly. I can’t even believe I’m sitting here saying all I’ve said to you.
“There’s nothing insidious about our group. We’re good people. We’re friendly. We love each other. I feel that people in our school district think we consider ourselves superior. They’re saying that because Bill Bradfield is such an aggressive man, such a brilliant man, such an overpowering man, that we all believe in everything he does. That’s not true.”
When Vince was through talking that day, one of the grand jurors said, “Explain to me, to all of us, why in the world didn’t you at some time go to Mrs. Reinert and warn her?”
And by now Vince knew he’d spend the rest of his life being asked that question. And by now he knew that even when the words were not being uttered, the eyes were asking it.
Flattened and humiliated, after an interminable pause, Vince said, “I … just did not … deal with it.”
It was as good an answer as any of them would give. And it would never get any better.
When it was time to pay his lawyer a little installment, did Bill Bradfield just send a check or money order or even walk in and plop some cash on John Curran’s desk? Of course not, since a straightforward move like that might cause him to limit his cast which already had more players than Nicholas Nickleby.
He didn’t want his lawyer to know that he had the pile of money that Shelly had been hiding. He told Chris to ask his father if he’d take the cash and buy money orders for several thousand dollars and give the money orders to Bill Bradfield. He wanted his lawyer to think he was broke and having to borrow.
And Bill Bradfield told Chris what he’d like to do about the Judas who had caused all this misery for them.
He said, “I’d like to blow Vince’s brains out!”
He said that he was thinking about planting a story with Jay Smith that Vince Valaitis had hired a private eye to uncover things about Jay Smith. That way Dr. Jay wouldn’t think that Bill Bradfield had talked to anyone about all the Jay Smith shenanigans, and he might be encouraged to have a member of the mob “take out” Vince.
Chris wasn’t worrying about Vince at this point. Mostly he was worrying about Chris Pappas. He’d learned a lot from his master in the past several months. Chris saved potential evidence that came his way. After all, Bill Bradfield himself always said that he hated to destroy anything because he never knew when he might need it again.
The superintendent of the Upper Merion school board promised a crowd of 150 parents and citizens that while 3 teachers whose names were not mentioned could not be legally fired, they would be removed from direct contact with students.
Chris went to work at a construction job. Bill Bradfield, Sue Myers and Vince Valaitis were reassigned to nonteaching duties while the school district tried to figure out what to do with them. They were ordered to report to the deserted Union Avenue School and were given busy work.
The superintendent said privately to Vince, “Boy, if I could get you out of this district, I would!”
Unfortunately for Vince, he and Bill Bradfield were forced to share the same basement office, the same work table in fact, and there was no real work to do. They’d just report every day and Vince would read the latest newspaper article on the Reinert case and try not to talk about it to his friend, but once in a while he couldn’t help himself.
He saw a tidbit that some reporter wrote and asked, “Did you ever have breakfast at Susan Reinerts house?”
“Absolutely not!” Bill Bradfield answered.
“Pat Schnure says that Karen told her you did.”
Bill Bradfield threw a desk calendar against the wall, and shouted, “They’re all liars! The hounds are after a conviction!”
“They’re saying a lot about you and Susan Reinert,” Vince said. “It can’t all be lies.”
And then Bill Bradfield looked at him with his blue eyes brimming with sadness and disappointment, and he started mixing metaphors:
“Vince, the Book of Job says that sometimes innocent people have to be punished. God never promised you a bed of roses. During court cases there are battles, and after battles there are bodies.”
Something happened then that had never happened to Bill Bradfield. A disciple got mad enough to clench a fist.
Vince Valaitis slammed his fist down on the wooden table and said, “I’m not going to be punished for you! I’m not going to jail with you!”
Bill Bradfield got mad too. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and said, “All right, if I’m going to be blamed for murder, I might well as admit it. Here. I’ll show you how I did it.”
He drew a square with a little line. He said, “I took the children and I gave them to …”
But Vince snatched the paper and crumpled it and threw it on the floor saying, “Don’t do that! Don’t make things up!”
Vince stormed out of the basement office and was allowed to have desk space in another room.
Over the years he was asked many times to think back on that incident, especially as to Bill Bradfield saying, “I gave them to …”
At a later time he would swear that Bill Bradfield said “Smith.” He would remember that it was “I gave them to Smith.”
Years and memories are tricky. Bill Bradfield may or may not have said “Smith.” The implication seemed clear, but Vince learned that lawyers worry a great deal about such things.
Later calls from William Bradfield to Vince Valaitis came at all hours of the night.
The phone would ring and Vince would pick it up sleepily and Bill Bradfield would say, “Why are you deserting me? I need you.”
Once he cried, “Don’t betray me to the Fascists! Look what they did to Jean Seberg! Look what they did to Ezra Pound!”
Another time he called and said, “Vince, it’s all a mistake. We didn’t do anything. None of us.”
But Vince responded, “How about Jay Smith? How about all the things you told me about you and Jay Smith?”