In the Heat of the Night

“Sam pictured himself again, squatting in the street, holding the animal’s head and looking into its shocked, pained, trusting, beseeching eyes. Then he had seen death come, and although he frequently went hunting, and was generally rated a tough man, Sam had been torn by pity for the dog and chagrin that he had caused its death. Sam kept his eyes on the road, avoided the worst of the holes, and watched out for dogs.” 

Physically, Sam is an imposing figure. The sympathy he feels for the dying dog shows his emotional side—he isn’t just a racist small-town cop. Though Sam’s concern for wandering dogs shows he has the capacity to care, he doesn’t apply that same care toward Virgil and the Black residents of Wells. Still, the moment shows that Sam could grow into a more caring person. 

“‘They don’t feel it when they get hit the way you or I would,’ he explained. ‘They haven’t got the same nervous system. They’re like animals; you’ve got to hit ‘em with a poleax to knock ‘em down, that’s all. That’s how they win fights, why they’re not afraid to get in the ring.’”

On his break, Sam casually makes racist statements about Black boxers with Ralph. Sam never doubts the validity of what he’s saying when he compares Black people to animals, or when he suggests they need to be hurt more to be defeated. Sam’s overt racism, and his ease in being racist out in the open, establishes his character’s prejudice, and shows that Wells is a city where Sam’s beliefs are completely acceptable. 

“As soon as he hung up, Gillespie rose to his full six feet four and began quickly to climb into his clothes, running over in his mind exactly what he would do when he reached the murder scene. He had been chief of police and a Wells resident for only nine weeks, and now he would have to prove himself. As he bent to tie his shoes, he knew that he could trust himself to do the right thing, but he still wished that the hurdles immediately before him had already been cleared.” 

Although he’s chief of police, Bill is very much a foreigner in Wells. By being new to the job and to the town, Bill has more to lose in the murder investigation, enhancing the narrative stakes of the story. Bill has full confidence in himself—confidence he later realizes is unearned. 

“He had been reading a paperback book up to the moment Sam entered; when he looked up, Sam saw that his face lacked the broad nose and thick, heavy lips that characterized so many southern laborers. His nose was almost like a white man’s and the line of his mouth was straight and disciplined. If he had been a little lighter, Sam would have seen white blood in him, but his skin was too black for that.” 

Ball introduces Virgil through Sam’s perspective. Sam’s racist analysis of Virgil’s physical characteristics reinforces Sam’s prejudices and those of Wells at large. Virgil surprises Sam, who has a narrow understanding of Black people. Virgil becomes a physical manifestation of Sam’s ignorance. 

“As a matter of principle Sam Wood did not like Negroes, at least not on anything that approached a man-to-man basis. It therefore confused him for a moment when he discovered within himself a stab of admiration for the slender man who stood beside him. Sam was a sportsman and therefore he enjoyed seeing someone, anyone, stand up successfully to Wells’s new chief of police.” 

Racism is integral to Sam’s psyche—he doesn’t like Virgil purely because Virgil is Black, reiterating to the reader the deep-seeded racism of the South and its police departments. Virgil complicates Sam’s worldview by standing up to Bill. Despite his conditioned prejudice, Sam admires Virgil, but his perspective continues to be an outwardly racist one. 

“You know we wouldn’t let the likes of you try to be a cop down here, don’t you?” 

Bill’s words are brief, but they speak volumes about the social structure in the South. Virgil might be a police officer in California, but in South Carolina, Black men aren’t allowed to join the force; the opportunities present to Virgil on the West Coast don’t exist in the South. Bill’s statement underlines that Virgil is in a city that doesn’t welcome him, increasing the dramatic tension. 

“Sam Wood sensed that he could go a little further. ‘Yes, sir, but there is no train for hours and the only bus through here going north doesn’t carry colored. It’s my fault he missed his train. Since he is a cop, maybe we ought to let him wait here’—Sam paused as inspiration hit him—‘so he’ll at least speak well of us when he gets back to Pasadena.’ Gillespie recognized diplomacy as a necessary evil. ‘All right.’” 

Virgil’s being a policeman complicates Sam and Bill’s treatment of him. They are instinctually cruel to him because he’s Black, but their shared profession forces them to reconsider how to interact with him. Despite his racist outlook, Sam admits he’s the reason Virgil missed his train, and he feels motivated to feed Virgil and be more hospitable. The scene highlights the tension Virgil brings to the story, forcing a racist police department to grapple with how they should treat a Black police officer. 

‘“You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Virgil,’ Gillespie retorted. ‘Incidentally, Virgil is a pretty fancy name for a black boy like you. What do they call you around home where you come from?’

‘They call me Mr. Tibbs,’ Virgil answered.” 

Ball composes a tense scene through minimal but dramatic dialogue. Bill demeans Virgil, ridiculing his name and race. Virgil is well-dressed and professional, but that doesn’t matter to Bill. Virgil’s sharp retort shows the stark difference between California and South Carolina: Where Virgil lives, he’s addressed with respect. Their exchange puts the two men in opposition, enhancing the drama, and reinforces that Virgil is in a hostile setting compared to his home. 

“The fact that this gives you a perfect out. Endicott wants us to use his black friend. OK, go ahead and do it. Suppose he finds the man you want? He has no police power here, so he will have to hand the whole thing over to you. But if he fails, that lets you completely off the hook. And everybody in town will be with you; the whole blame goes to him. Either way you win.” 

Mr. Endicott complicates Bill’s job by insisting Virgil help with the murder investigation. The mayor explains to Bill how to use Virgil to his advantage as the potential fall guy. Bill’s career is at stake, but now, Virgil can be his scapegoat. This dynamic adds complexity to Bill and Virgil’s relationship, and shows that powerful people in the town are against Virgil. 

“The girl was different. As she sat, quietly composed, Sam took a quick, careful look and revised drastically his estimate of Italian women. This one was not fat and did not look as though she ever would be. She was dark, he noted, with the type of short-cropped hair which had always appealed to him. He reminded himself that this girl had learned only that morning that her father had been brutally murdered. He felt an impulse to sit beside her, to put his arm gently across her shoulders and tell her that somehow everything was going to be all right.” 

Sam is not only racist toward Black people, but prejudiced toward others as well. Before he meets Duena, he assumes she will be overweight because that’s what he believes Italian women are like. Seeing this specific woman shatters this stereotype. Sam’s newfound desire to protect Duena shows Sam can shed his biases. His fondness for Duena adds another dynamic to the investigation and gives Sam an opportunity to grow as a character. 

“An outsider might be all right if he were a good fellow and all that, but the idea of a black man stuck up like a jagged rock in the middle of a channel. By the time they had reached the police station, Sam had still not made up his mind. He wanted the crime solved, but he wanted it solved by someone whom he could look up to and respect. The only trouble was he couldn’t think who it might be.”

Throughout the story, Sam finds himself admiring Virgil, but he resists this emotion. Sam wants the murderer to be caught, but the thought of a Black man solving the case is too much for him to accept. Sam’s inner turmoil reinforces his deeply racist mindset and presents another hurdle for the investigation. Because Sam can’t respect Virgil, he won’t be as cooperative in solving the case. 

“‘I don’t especially want to be white,’ Tibbs said, ‘but white or black, it doesn’t make much difference when you’re at the end of a rope. And after you’ve rotted for a few months in the ground—say, a little more than a year from now—no one will know or care what color your skin was. You won’t have a skin anymore. Is that the way you want it?’” 

Virgil typically remains calm and brushes off the racism of Wells. Here, when Harvey refuses to cooperate with him because Virgil’s Black, Virgil becomes more direct and blunter, revealing the sterner authoritative side of his character. Virgil’s comments about skin color are sharp, pointing out the absurdity of judging someone else by the color of their skin. Virgil displays pride in being a Black man—he doesn’t want to be white, despite the societal advantages it would give him. 

“Gillespie leaned back and thought for a while. Ralph was none too reliable, but he might have something. Ralph’s mind was limited, but at times he had a glint of intelligence, the instinct of an animal for its enemies. To Ralph anything that upset the status quo would be an enemy.” 

Bill’s opinion of Ralph hints at Ralph being the killer. Ralph has the cunning of a trapped animal defending its nest and unwilling for it to be disturbed. Enrico—an Italian, an outsider—disrupts the status quo of Wells. Ralph is volatile and hotheaded enough see a stranger like Enrico as a target. 

“‘Well, I don’t like it,” Watkins exclaimed, and half rose to his feet. ‘I don’t want no n***** running around this town asking questions of white people like he thought he was somebody. He wanted to talk to my night man, Ralph, at the diner, but Ralph wouldn’t let him in. And he was down at the bank acting like he was a white man. A few of the boys are getting ready to teach him his place, and they will, too, if you don’t get him out of here.’” 

The councilmen that run the town are outwardly racist. Their hate for Virgil heightens the danger: Virgil’s doing his job disgusts Watkins, who threatens Virgil with physical harm. Watkins and the council see a Black police officer as a danger: Virgil behaves as an equal, which upsets the racist segregationists in charge of Wells. Bill finds himself stuck in the middle. He needs Virgil’s help, but the council pressures him to make Virgil leave.  

“Then it may be hard for you to believe, but there are places in this country where a colored man, to use your words for it, is simply a human being like everybody else. Not everybody feels that way, but enough do so that at home I can go weeks at a time without anybody reminding me that I’m a Negro. Here I can’t go fifteen minutes. If you went somewhere where people despised you because of your southern accent, and all you were doing was speaking naturally and the best way that you could, you might have a very slight idea of what it is to be constantly cursed for something that isn’t your fault and shouldn’t make any difference anyhow.” 

Virgil speaks openly and honestly with Sam, showing a friendship developing between the two despite Sam’s racist view of the world. Virgil paints a setting unlike Wells—a place where he isn’t constantly reminded that he’s Black. Virgil’s home in Pasadena suggests that it’s possible for the South to also become more inclusive and accepting of different races. Virgil appeals to Sam directly by mentioning his Southern accent, forcing Sam to consider what it might like to be persecuted for something out of his control. 

“When Bill Gillespie was notified that he had been selected as chief of police for the little city of Wells, he had celebrated by buying several books on police administration and the investigation of crime. During his first weeks in Wells they gave him a certain sense of importance despite the fact that he found no time to read them. After his session in Mayor Schubert’s office, he decided to crack them without delay. In the quiet of the early evening, after he had eaten well and put on his slippers, he sat down under a good light and made an earnest attempt to study.” 

Bill’s backstory reveals a man unqualified to be chief of police. His purchasing of books on policing shows he wants to rise to the challenge of his new position, but his failure to read them gives him an opportunity to grow during the story. When his inadequacies threaten his job, Bill acknowledges that he can do better and commits to studying. He can grow and learn, making his character more complex and nuanced. 

“‘I ain’t worried,’ the man told him. ‘I’ll demand a jury trial. You know what that means.’” 

Bill questions the two men that attacked Virgil. Bill threatens the men with charges, but they know they live in an area where a Black man’s word doesn’t carry the same weight as a white man’s. Bill knows that his pursuit will be fruitless—a jury of the men’s peers would never convict them because they’re white and Virgil is Black, further highlighting the systemic racism of the South at the time. 

“‘Well, it worked out that our thinking, as far as it went, was correct. We had several applicants willing to work for the salary for the sake of the career advancement it would represent. One of them was Bill Gillespie. Certain members of the council—and I’m mentioning no names—insisted on a southerner, who would at least do all he could to maintain our traditional race relationships. Someone from the North might shove integration down our throats long before we were ready to accept it and, if possible, make it work.’” 

Frank’s statement illuminates how a racist city ensures it stays that way. The councilmen that run the town are racist, so they appoint a police chief who will enforce their values. Their primary goal is to avoid integration, even more so than finding a qualified candidate. When powerful people oppose change, they use the system’s they control to maintain the status quo. 

“Sam put his hands flat on the table and looked up. ‘Virgil isn’t a n*****. He’s colored, he’s black, and he’s a Negro, but he isn’t a n*****. I’ve known a lot of white men who weren’t as smart as he is.’”

Sam’s prejudice is breaking down. He acknowledges that Virgil shouldn’t be called the n-word, and that Virgil is smarter than a lot of white men. He accepts that Black people shouldn’t be treated as inferior because of the color of their skin. Sam doesn’t just think this, but says it firmly to the manager of a restaurant, demonstrating his growth as a character and his newfound willingness to stick up for someone of a different race.  

“‘I’ve got a confession to make, Chief Gillespie: I almost bungled this one beyond recovery. You see, up until yesterday I was hotly in pursuit of the wrong man.’” 

Virgil spends most of the story as the expert. He has more training than the other police officers, and his specialty as a homicide detective makes him a veteran presence amongst a department of novices. Virgil is confident from the outset that he’ll find Enrico’s killer, but in this passage, he admits that he almost didn’t solve the case without help from the other officers in Wells. This unites characters that, at the start, opposed and despised each other. 

“‘Thank you, Virgil,’ he said. ‘You’re a credit to your race.’ He paused. ‘I mean, of course, the human race.’”

At the conclusion of the story, Bill’s prejudice towards Black people wanes. He appreciates Virgil for everything he did to help catch the killer, and he says that Virgil is an exemplary Black man and an outstanding human being. 

“In a moment of rare clarity, Gillespie saw there was only one thing he could do. He couldn’t tell the story because he didn’t know it. To confess ignorance at this stage of the game was unthinkable. And he realized fully that if he passed the credit to the place where it belonged, his own standing would grow as a result.” 

Bill starts the novel bullheaded and obsessed with authority. He sees Virgil as someone who can make him look good or serve as a scapegoat if all else fails. Now, Bill acknowledges that he needs to give credit where credit is due. Bill didn’t solve the murder—Sam and Virgil did. Giving credit doesn’t weaken Bill. Instead, he sees that supporting those working for him improves his own reputation: They succeeded under his supervision. 

“Oh, yes, the unusual temperature gave Ralph a totally unexpected alibi. When the intern who came with the ambulance fixed the time of death, he did so in the usual manner, by estimating how much body heat had been lost. But he failed to allow for the unusual temperature and therefore was considerably off on his estimate. The hot night had literally kept the body warm. It wasn’t until that major objection could be overcome, Ralph’s apparent alibi, that I could be sure he was the man.”

The pervasive heat of the night creates discomfort and tension, building an appropriate tone for a mystery novel. Here, Ball weaves it into the plot as well. The heat helps Ralph avoid suspicion, as the heat provides a final twist in the case.