Wednesday evening came, and I found myself parked about a half block down from the Randall residence at around five. After a short wait, I watched Dr. Randall depart for his evening work in the emergency room. Then, about ten minutes later, Mrs. Randall followed out in her Pontiac.
I followed her. She eventually arrived at Mt. Calvary Baptist Church. I pulled into a parking lot across the street and stopped the car. I saw her enter the church, and I settled in for a wait.
The church was a steeple topped red-brick affair, with a sanctuary hall and large classroom complex attached to it. Promptly, at six, the bells rang out a short melody. There was an announcement board on the front lawn of the church. Rev. Leo P. McLardy was listed as the minister, along with the various times of the worship services, 11 A.M. on Sundays, 7 P.M. on Wednesdays.
I figured that the parishioners would start to arrive shortly, and I was right. By service time the parking lot was about half full (not bad for a Wednesday night). After the bell chimes at seven, I was rewarded with the faint sound of an organ and singing coming from the church.
I sat in the car for about an hour. A few minutes after eight o’clock, the two front doors swung open and the parishioners began to file out.
A man and woman, whom I assumed to be the Reverend McLardy and his wife, greeted the faithful as they exited the church. The Reverend himself was a man of medium height, wearing an immaculate dark blue worsted wool suit. His most noticeable feature was his hair, which was black and thick, with just a touch of gray at the temples. He had it swept back over his head in a precise pompadour. The wife was a petite little thing, wearing a demur green dress with white collar. Her blonde hair was pulled back and coiled tightly in a bun. They shook hands with the congregation on the way out. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits.
I kept my eye on the parking lot and after about twenty minutes, I spied Mrs. Randall exit the church from a side door and get into her car. She pulled out of the parking lot. I followed her. After a few minutes, she came to an intersection. Instead of turning left to return to her home, she turned right.
Gotchya!
I eagerly tailed her and she drove down the highway for about forty-five minutes and arrived at a small motel in a nearby town. She parked the car in front of the manager’s office as I drove by her. By the time I turned around, she’d left the office, gotten into her car and was pulling around to the back.
I stopped at the front of the motel, parked and sauntered to the back, just in time to see her enter room 115 on the ground floor. I went back to my car and pulled around to the back of the motel to wait.
I parked in the rear of the parking lot, away from a street lamp located on the opposite side. I then hopped in the backseat of my car with my camera and telephoto lens and waited.
My plan was simple. All Dr. Randall wanted to know was who his wife was seeing, so all I was going to do was to take the picture of Mrs. Randall’s lover as he entered the motel room. I would wait until they were done, then hopefully get a shot of the two lovers as they left. I was using an extremely sensitive black-and-white film in the camera. The nearby street lamp gave off plenty of light, so no flash would be involved to give me away.
I waited for about a half an hour, and then I saw a blue Ford pull up near Mrs. Randall’s car. I didn’t know if this was her lover, but I got ready to take a picture of the person exiting the car. It turned out to be a couple of elderly women who let themselves into a room about three doors down from Mrs. Randall’s. I looked at my watch, and settled down to wait some more.
Five minutes later another car pulled up to the back of the motel. As I snapped pictures, I was greeted by the sight of the Right Reverend Leo P. McLardy exiting his Chrysler Imperial. He hurriedly went over to Randall’s motel room door and knocked. The door opened, and he was let in. After a few minutes, the lights went out in the room.